Fucky Friday

I continue staring at the mirror. I see that she's absorbed into this strange illusion too. Somehow in our reflection, I can only see myself over the top of her shoulder, and it looks like I'm still behind her... lying on my normal side of the bed.

Part of me doesn't want to move yet. If I move, this optical illusion will probably fade, and I wanna figure it out on my own. It's like a puzzle, and I hate letting puzzles stump me. I have to admit though, that this one really has me fooled.

Okay, so obviously mirrors reverse things. That's just how they work... but this is somehow reversing forward and back, not left and right. That isn't normal. And there's the fact that I can only see Delilah's face in the mirror.

I chuckle silently. From this angle, it literally looks like my reflectionIS Delilah's. As if I'm seeing her reflection as mine. That is super trippy. I suppose I'm still half asleep, but I don't feel particularly groggy. How am I only seeing her?

After a few minutes of trying to determine how this illusion works, I give up. I sit up in the bed, resigning myself to the fact that I had to cheat to get the answer.

In the mirror, Delilah's reflection sits up.

I feel an immediate, sickening, out-of-body experience. I can see my own body still lying prone... and my eyes are closed in sleep. The mirror shows me Delilah's reflection, her eyes wide with horror and shock. Her face is echoing all the terror and confusion that I'm feeling right now.

"This is a dream." I speak the sentence aloud, and in the mirror, Delilah mouths my words simultaneously. In the very same instant, I hear her soft voice mutter the same expression. The words seemed to come from my own mouth, but they sound nothing like my voice.

"This is..." I start to speak, but again the female face in the mirror mouths my words, as Delilah's voice exits my lips.

My brain begins spinning, as it attempts to understand the contradictory inputs. Finally, I do what I should have done from the start. I look down at my body... or rather, I look down at Delilah's body, which is currently occupying the space where my body should be.

Gazing down, I see my wife's familiar, large breasts bulging from my chest. They are covered by the night-shirt. I can see most of her cleavage, because I stretched the neck out so badly last night... but now her cleavage is mine, and I'm wearing her clothes... with her tits... and...

Reflexively, my hand drops down to my crotch. There's no dick. I let out a scream, but it's the high-pitched keen of a terrified woman. A woman without a penis. Me, in other words... the woman... the penisless woman.

The body beside me... formerly mine... sits up on the bed, and looks into my current eyes. I can see my own face staring at me with shock. The lips move, and I hear my own voice. "Anthony! What's wrong? Wha....? WHAT THE FUCK!!!!"

The body that used to be mine recoils away from me, jumping out of the bed. I see the hand... my own hand... but not... reach intoMY nightstand and pull out my home defense pistol. Then my own voice pierces my ears. "THOMAS! HELP! THERE'S A... A... A FUCKING SKINWALKER IN OUR BED!" Then the second, more expected reaction occurs. "What the fuck is wrong with my voice?!?"

I throw my new hands... Delilah's hands... up in a defensive gesture. "Don't shoot! It's me! Anthony!" I see my eyes open wider with disbelief. "'Lilah! I think I'm in your body!" The voice leaving my lips sounds exactly like my wife's, because it is, of course.

She looks down. Shock and awe cause her eyes to bulge. "WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT?!?!" She drops the gun, and begins feeling the chest that is currently hers. "Anthony! What's happened to my body... Did you just say...?" She looks into the mirror and sees my reflection.

Immediately, her eyes roll backward, and she begins to swoon. This is all too much for her. Hell, it's almost too much for me. I dash forward instinctively, attempting to catch her before she falls. As her body slumps, I grab her firmly.

Immediately, I realize that the weight is too much. These delicate, feminine arms I have now aren't even remotely strong enough to prevent her from falling. Together, we both slide off of the bed, and I just barely have enough time to slide my arm under her head. This prevents her from bashing her skull... so my skull... on the bedroom floor.

I slap her face repeatedly, and after a tortuously long time, her eyes flutter open. "Anthony," I hear my own voice say to me, weakly. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. But it's gonna be okay." My high pitched register is far too meek sounding to express the courage which I'm trying to exude. "I'm gonna help you back up onto the bed, okay. Just lean on me... I've got you."

I try to sound strong, but I know that I'm failing miserably. As I try to bring her to her feet, the true extent of my weakness becomes painfully evident. Is this what it feels like to be frail? I suppose so. I never considered myself a He-Man or anything... but this? This helplessness? It's maddening.

The events of last night flood into my mind. Delilah isn't powerful; she never has been... and last night I made her feel totally helpless. Much like I feel now. Remorse and empathy wash over me immediately. I already said I was a bastard... but now I realize what a monster I truly was.

After a few moments of fruitlessly trying to pull my wife's newfound body up, she seems to regain her composure and stands. She crawls onto the bed and sits, crossing her legs Indian-style. She gazes at me thoughtfully.

I sit at the foot of the mattress and look at her. Neither of us speak for a long time. Finally I say, "What the hell are we going to do, Delilah? We swapped bodies? How... what... did you piss off a witch or something?"

I look down at my hand, so soft and feminine. I roll it back and forth, flexing the fingers open and closed. Her well manicured nails look so different from the rough nails I'm used to. Everything is different. This is all too much. My mind is handling this insane situation far better than I would have expected, but I feel like I might still be in shock.

Delilah shrugs, shaking her head. "I have no idea. I was going to ask you the exact same question. I was just thinking... It's a good thing that neither of us have work today. I don't think that either of us could manage at the other's job." There is a gleam in her eyes that I've never seen before. Maybe it's because those are MY eyes?

I nod. "This is a nightmare. I keep telling myself it's a dream, but obviously it isn't."

"Of all the magical curses to endure, I suppose this isn't the worst one..." Delilah always did like to look at the bright side.

"That's really true. If I have to be stuck in a woman's body... I'm glad it's yours. I kinda wanna play with my... I mean your... FUCK! I don't even know what to call our bodies anymore! Are these your tits? Or mine? How do I even express myself?"

"I was thinking the exact same thing!" Delilah laughs, and we sit for a moment in silence. "Okay, for the sake of our own sanity, let's just claim these body parts for now. Otherwise we're going to go crazy. She pulls down the boxers she's wearing. "Until we swap back, this is my dick... and those are your tiddies. Sound fair?"

I look at my former body's penis... Delilah's penis now, and I swear I can feel tears forming. Are the hormones of this body overwhelming me already? "I suppose that

makes sense. Man, I hate to lose my dick."

"I hate losing my pussy!" Delilah agrees. "But we've actually been granted a rare gift. Haven't you ever been curious about what it feels like to have a vagina? I've always been curious about having a penis."

Already, I can tell that Delilah is stepping into a more dominant, masculine role. I guess the testosterone is already taking effect. Or maybe that isn't how it works. I don't know; I barely passed biology.

"You do have a point. I do wanna know what it's like to have a pussy." I say the words timidly.

"Exactly. I suggest we take a few minutes to explore our new bodies. Alone. Just for a bit. I'm gonna take a shower." Without another word, she slides off the bed and hurries into the bathroom. I hear the doorknob lock. She's certainly wasting no time.

"Don't you wanna explore this stuff together?" I call through the door.

"Yes, but first I want a second to examine myself without you staring at me. I think that would just be too embarrassing. I'll be out in a second."

I suppose she's right about that. I don't want her staring at me while I discover my new form. Mytemporary form surely... at least I hope so.

Closing my eyes, I slowly begin removing my clothing. The ruined night-shirt is the first to go. I pull it up and off, and I feel the long, silky locks of hair cascading down my bare back. I've never had long hair before... but to be fair, there are alot of things that I have now, that I've never had before.

Next, I reach down blindly and pull off my panties. I remember that I tore off her first pair, but she must have cleaned up and gotten a fresh one. Lastly, I pull her socks. I give her toes a wiggle, without looking. Her feet feel so thin and tender, especially compared to the big, rough clodhoppers I'm used to.

My eyes are still closed; I know I have to look eventually, but I'm so nervous. Finally I look downward at my new body. My gorgeous breasts are heaving out from my torso, and I reach up and touch them gently.

This is an incredibly strange experience, because I've felt them a million times with my hands. Now for the first time, I am experiencing both sensations simultaneously. I am both giving and receiving stimulation, as I knead the luscious globes... first softly, then harder.

I extend my index finger and touch my nipples. A feminine whimper escapes my lips, completely unexpected. Having areolas and nipples is not a new experience for me. They are far more sensitive now, though.

I massage each one with purposeful, practiced motions, and I am surprised by how pleasant the experience is. Rubbing my nipples as a man never elicited much excitement. But this? This is something else.

I suppose the most foreign experience is the sexual attraction I feel toward my own body. That's certainly strange. I suppose I've always imagined that if this happened to me, I'd immediately start rubbing my clit... but whenever I think about my missing penis, I hold back.

I can't help but feel afraid. This isn't like me. I'm normally so fearless... now I feel more timid than ever. Could it be something about Delilah's body? I feel a sense of low level dread looming over me, but it feels so extreme, even for the situation.

Is this what it feels like to be a frantic woman? And am I being misogynistic with these thoughts? Am I a man, currently trapped in a woman's body... choosing to be sexist? I honestly don't know.

I suppose it makes sense to be nervous in a situation like this. But the level of anxiety I'm feeling isn't normal for me. Suddenly a realization hits me: Anxiety. Delilah suffers from it. Is this what that feels like? This is awful. Has she been living with this constant angst every single day? How does she keep herself from going crazy?

While I still have my thoughts... my soul is in her body. But this brain? All the chemicals flowing around? All the hormones? That's all Delilah. Whatever biological quirks she normally has to deal with are mine, for the time being. And vice-versa, I guess.

I have a new found respect for her, along with a deep empathy that I never had before. Why haven't I been more thoughtful? Silently, I promise to be more helpful to her, the minute we swap back.

I feel the anxiety fading slightly, and I focus again on my body. Damn it, she is so hot. I mean I... this body. This body isfucking hot. I run my soft hands down the length of my waist, feeling each inch of my velvety flesh. My fingertips dance across these curvy and voluptuous hips. My smooth, delicate legs feel divine to the touch. They always have.

I lift one foot, and run a fingernail gently across the sole. Immediately I recoil, stifling a laugh. Damn, she's ticklish. I always considered myself ticklish, but her feet are a thousand times more sensitive than mine.

I reach a hand behind my back, gripping my tight ass cheeks. That feels amazing. Both touching and being touched. I would have imagined that it wouldn't feel so good to touch your own ass, but this does. This is sexy and weird, all at the same time.

"Okay," I say, my female voice barely a whisper. "It's time to explore my pussy. It's no big deal. You've played with pussy countless times. This is no differ... well, it's a little... alright this isway different, honestly, but that's okay. I can handle this.

I reach my hands down below, slowly feeling my way down my smooth crotch toward my freshly acquired female genitals. I can feel my pulse beginning to quicken. Why do I find this so terrifying? It should be second nature. Every straight guy loves fingering women, and now I get a chance to try out both sides of the experience. I should be so eager. But I'm afraid.

I touch my outer labia, and a shiver runs up my spine. This is such a foreign experience. I use two fingers to spread the lips apart. There is a faint *squish* as the petals separate. It's another subtle reminder of how astoundingly wet I am. This body was left on edge last night... which was my own fault. Now it is dying for the gratification it was previously denied. I highly doubt that it stayed moist all night, but it feels like a river now.

I place my middle finger against my inner labia, gingerly spreading them apart. Another shudder runs down my spine. Part of me wants to ram my fingers in and finger fuck myself... but that just doesn't seem right. I have to take this slowly.

With the utmost care and tenderness, I gently slide a single finger inside. The moist walls of my vulva envelop my finger, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. This is ridiculous. I've barely touched myself, and I'm already having such a strong reaction. I feel like such a horny slut.

I can't imagine what will happen when I touch my clit. I move my singular finger nervously, feeling the pleasurable feedback from the countless nerve endings inside me.

"Oh god..." I murmur, almost in a whisper. "This is... this is so much more sensitive than my... ooh..." I rotate my digit within me, feeling the pleasure increase as I slowly pick up the pace.

I read somewhere that female genitalia have twice as many nerve endings as their male counterparts. I can certainly believe that now. This is reminiscent of the first time I experimented with my body as a teenager. It is similar I suppose. This isactually my first time playing with my own vagina.

Feeling bold, I pull a moistened finger across my clitoris. Instantaneously, another tremor shoots up my spine. "That is... that feels... fucking hell... that's amazing!" I've never felt such an intense sensation...

The bathroom door swings open, and I jump with surprise. I snatch my hand away from my vagina, embarrassed. I have no idea why I'm acting shy. Delilah knew that I was out here exploring my body, but I can't shake the feeling that I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar... so to speak.

"What do you think of my body?" She asks with a sly grin. "Your body, I mean."

I can feel my face flushing slightly. "It's amazing," I reply truthfully. "It's no secret that I've always been attracted to your body, and now that I'm inhabiting it. I just... damn. This is both crazy and amazing, all at once. And your pussy...? It's so..."

"Sensitive?" Delilah asks, as if reading my mind.

I nod.

"Yeah, I noticed that having a penis feels great, but your cockhead isn't as easy to stimulate as my clit."

"It makes me think of that line from the Greek myth of Teiresias. When Zues and Hera ask him if men or women enjoy sex more. Since he had been both a man and a woman."

Delilah laughs. "Oh I think I remember what you're talking about! He said something like, 'If the pleasures of love are to be counted in ten...'"

"'...nine points go to women, and one goes to men.'" I finish, blushing again. "I can't say that's entirely true. But I feel like there's some truth in it."

Delilah gazes at me, my own piercing eyes boring into my soul, as a lusty smile begins forming on her face. "You ready to find out for real?"

I laugh, dismissively. "Woah there, babe. I don't think I'm ready for that kind of craziness. I mean, I'm feeling really horny, but I don't think I'm ready to start fucking just yet. We have bigger fish to fry. We need to figure out how to reverse this curse. Then, before we swap back, I suppose we can try sex."

As I speak, I can feel my stomach begin to sink. Delilah's grin isn't faltering even a little. If anything, it's growing more intense.

"Hush, my sweet summer child. I'm just gonna take your body for a spin real quick." A wicked laugh escapes her lips. "Just look at it this way... I'm trapped in your body, but I'm about to get back into my own body...COCK FIRST!"

She takes a step toward me, and I suddenly realize how much shorter I am. I try to back away from her, but there's literally nowhere to go. Her cock is fully erect, and it looks like an angry club. I've never been so terrified of my own body before.

"Wait, honey! Seriously! This isn't funny!" I feel so helpless, as she coils a powerful arm around my waist, pulling me back toward her.

"I think it's hilarious!" She chuckles. "This is the best April Fools prank ever! Now hold still, you little slut. You're about to get fucked good and hard!"

"STOP!" I shout, with as much intensity as I can muster. The words exit my mind as a furious command, but they squeak from my feminine voice box like the cries of a helpless mouse. A mouse which has already fallen prey to a ravenous predator.

I try to pull away from her, but the moment I feel a powerful hand wrap around my wrist, I realize that there is no breaking free.

Delilah climbs onto the bed in a single, swift motion, and she shoves me downward. I collapse among the sheets, and feel her massive presence looming over me in an instant. Her heavy torso weighs down my legs, as she stares down into my terrified face.

"You're a good little bitch." She breathes. "Are you gonna let mommy fuck the shit out of you now? Or are you gonna fight it? I'm down for either. As a matter of fact, I don't even need you wet... I can always just spit on my dick, remember?"

"Delilah please!" I can hear a shameful pleading in my voice that I've never used before. I've always been the dominant one in our relationship. I've never felt so... helpless. I'm entirely at her mercy... But I know that she loves me. She'll listen to reason. She has to.

"Delilah," I repeat. "We're dealing with forces we don't understand! What if fucking locks us in to these bodies or something?!"

"Oh I hope so!" She smiles, with a deeply sinister edge. "I think I like being the dominant one in this marriage."

"What if I get pregnant?!" I exclaim. "It's not impossible... We have no idea how that would work!"

She reaches her head down, and plants a series of sultry kisses down my neck, working towards my exposed breasts. "You're right... We have no idea how that would work. But I'm curious to find out! Aren't you?!"

I begin to argue, "NOOO-mmph!" As she plants a powerful kiss on my lips, her thick masculine tongue forces its way inside, feeling around within my delicate mouth. The sensation would actually be pleasant, if I weren't so afraid.

I try to pull away from the kiss, until a strong hand grasps at my chin, holding my head in place. She finally breaks contact with a satisfied sigh. Looking down, I can see her cock once again. It looks longer and thicker than I've ever seen it before. I should be proud. I'm not.