Gender Swap Week Pt. 03

After the intense experience at my workplace, I needed to change. I needed a shower. I needed to reset. Looking at myself in the rearview mirror of my suburu, my unfamiliar red locks cascading down my crumpled long sleeve shirt, stretched tight by the full bust. The gender flip week had impacted everyone - and the results were chaotic. For me, it had turned my Will Riker beard and physique into a leggy redhead with intense sexual stamina.

My wife and I had given each other a hall pass for the week. I think Brenna had just wanted an opportunity to have sex as a man - she always favored women sexually anyway and now to experience it with a penis? But for me, I had never intended anything more than some light flirting.

How wrong I was. There was a fire that had gotten a hold of me and I couldn't shake it. Already, I had begun a violent and passionate relationship with my sister-in-law Becka, and had just finished fucking every hard cock who wanted me at my workplace. How could I even show my face again? My unfamiliar face . . . only a few more days to get through. I needed a fresh start. Like I said, a reset. I grabbed my gym bag from home and dragged my disheveled mess of a self to the YMCA.

The building was old and had all the charm of a school gymnasium but it was cheap and cleanish. I beeped my way past the front desk and made it all the way to the men's locker room on autopilot. I opened the door and made my way past the men, toweled and shirtless. My appearance drew some attention as I squared up in front of an unoccupied locker.

"Hey, hey!" A larger man, broad shouldered, black, and bald, snapped his fingers in front of my head as I started to pull my shirt off. "You can't be in here. Wrong locker room."

I looked around. The men had all turned towards me. Big men, small men, young men and old, faces intense or amused or concerned. I looked down at my full womanly curves, the large DD breasts that threatened to spill out of my top and the black pleated skirt that showed off my pale thighs.

"Oh. Right. Sorry guys!" I tried to keep it light, my mind racing. What if I had stayed there, what would they have done to me? I took some shaky breaths, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I fled the locker room and made my way down the hallway to the women's locker room.

Relax, Ryan, they were probably just as confused and disoriented as you were. My reassurances ring hollow remembering the way that some of them looked at me. God, this gender flip week was exhausting, everyone was just horny as hell.

The women's locker room was, unsurprisingly, not that different from the men's, a mirrored layout of lockers and communal showers, a sauna room and an entrance to the pool. Four women were in various states of undress, an older woman in her late fifties, uncaringly stepping out of the shower, a statuesque blonde pulling a tight sports shirt over a slender bust, two brunettes in their forties, gabbing away as they tied their tennis shoes. I find a locker in the corner and pop it open without a second glance.

CLATTER. A cell phone on a tripod falls out of the locker and onto the floor. I put down my bag and peered at the contraption. Yes, it was duct taped to the inside of the locker, tilted at such an angle as to give a panoramic view of the locker room. Someone was being a peeping tom.

I looked around, but no one was paying any attention. It was still recording, so the naughty spy probably was not far - it was a proper phone so they would not have wanted to leave it for long. Most likely they set it up, when to do their work out and hoped they would get lucky.

Who could have set this up? The most logical choice would be another man like myself, affected by the Gender Swap week, who was spying on his fellow women. After the week was over, he would have some great footage for his spank bank. Or at least, he would have if I hadn't chosen his locker to use.

Wild thoughts raced through my head. Maybe there was a way to have fun and not get carried away, I told myself. I carefully replaced the phone in its hiding spot, making sure I was standing right in the center of its view. I gave it a big saucy wink and slowly pulled my shirt over my head, revealing my full breasts clumsily contained by Brenna's old black bra. I ran a hand through my curly locks and shook my shoulders slowly before unhooking the bra and tossing it aside.

My nipples, pale and hard, drew those breasts to proud points. I gave the nipples a gentle tweak, sending a shiver of pleasure through my body. I felt that same thrill, that heart pounding delirium, to be drunk on the power of your own arousal was an incredible feeling.

I reach down and hook my thumbs into my skirt, sliding it down my full hips, passing my long white thighs till it pools at my feet leaving me in the simple black panties. I turn around and drop the panties, making sure to give the camera a nice loving look. I slap my cheek, leaving a little handprint, oh I am way too into this. I sit down on the bench and spread my legs, giving the camera a full view of my short, red curls and glistening lips.

I reach down and teasingly trace the outside of my lips, biting my lip to keep from moaning, before making lazy circles around my clit. The sensation was overwhelming and my head fell back, eyes closed, lost in the slowly building pleasure.

"Uhnnnnggnn." I moan and then quickly look around. The older woman who had stepped out of the shower had glanced around the row of lockers.

"You okay, dude?" She, well, I guess, he says. I snap my legs together and shoot off an embarrassed, "yeah, I'm good." over my shoulder.

I lean in conspiratorially to the camera, "Hope you liked that. Find me if you want to see more." I whisper before throwing on my gym clothes and heading out to the weight room.

###

My wife's old workout clothes were not well-suited to my new frame - the sports bra was too tight, the shorts doing a poor job of covering my acres of leg, but it was good enough for the YMCA on a Thursday afternoon. I hit the cardio machines for a solid twenty without too much trouble before doing some free weight lunges and barbell curls.

I'm not sure if the calories I gained during this week stayed with me after the gender flip or if this was all worthless anyway but it helped clear my mind and that was worth it alone. The gym was only sparsely attended; a rail-thin old man hitting the treadmill, the statuesque blonde woman doing pull-ups and two younger white guys, college kids maybe, doing more talking than motion on the nautilus machines.

The large black man, the one who snapped at me earlier, was doing reps with some of the larger barbells. He gave me an appreciative once over when I entered but had not said a word as I joined him in the free weights section. Still riding high from the video in the locker, I made sure to plant myself fully in his range of vision as I did my lunges, twists and curls.

Catching him out of the corner of my eye, it was clear he had lost whatever momentum he had, sitting dumbly on the bench, idly holding a 25 pound weight, watching as I did bends in front of him. I let him watch, my thoughts running wild.

I wonder what he would look like naked. I wonder what his cock would look like, how he would look when I put him inside me? His muscular frame straining, arms like tree trunks pushing me down . . . Pace yourself, I took a deep breath. The goal was NOT to leap into another physical encounter. Just finish up your workout.

I did one more set and then took a deep draught of the water fountain. When I came up for air, he was there beside me.

"Hey, miss, I owe you an apology." He begins. I quickly shake my head.

"Oh no need, I was just, wooo, you know," I giggle. He smiles.

"Oh I know, this whole week has me just . . .all turned around." He says. He extends a big hand, "I'm Christina." He says. I take his hand, my white slender fingers feeling tiny in his grasp.

"I'm Ryan." I say. "Pleased to meet you. Are you a Y member?" He shakes his head.

"Nope, not much of a workout person really but since I've got this all going on," he gestures to his broad meaty shoulders. "I wanted to try it out, see how much I could lift." I reach out and rub his arm appreciatively.

"Oh yeah, that's pretty solid." He smiles and blushes.

"Hey," he began. "I don't usually do this but like I said, this week,"

I look up at him expectantly. "Yes?"

"Do you want to grab a cup of coffee or something after this? I don't know what your situation is, or, um, I just . . . I want to get to know you." He finishes clumsily. I give him a full smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that alot. Just let me get showered and I'll meet you out front." My cheeks are burning, a date? With a man? Fuck. The goal was not to get too entangled. Although, my wife won't be off work for another couple of hours and he was cute.

He was cute? Gah, the longer this week stretches on the more my sexual orientation has reoriented. I flee back to the locker room, sweaty and flustered. I head to my locker to find a towel and she is waiting for me.

My peeping tom. In the flesh. She's no more than five feet, tops, with high cheekbones, jet back hair cut short and swept to the side in a loose fitting t-shirt and leggings. She looked about 22 and was sitting right next to where she had hidden her camera, trying to look discreet but the moment her eyes locked with mine, her face lit up with a mix of shame, embarrassment and excitement. No doubt about it, this was my voyeur.

"Hey." I say simply, glancing around the mostly empty locker room. "What's your name?"

She waited too long to answer, fumbling for something plausible. "Your real name, please." I reiterate.

"Ashton." I nod. "I'm Ryan." I grab my towel out of my gym bag.

"So what was your plan? Get a little for your spank bank to enjoy once all this is over?" I ask.

"Pretty much." She admits.

"Well, I appreciate the honesty." I said.

"Are you going to turn me in?" Ashton asks. I hadn't thought too far about it. Ashton was cute with her edgy 90s girl look. I briefly considered extorting some sexual favors - goodness knows she was hot enough that I could swing that way. My usual way, I reminded myself. But no, my head was full of Christina, and my nipples tightened in the cool air just thinking about him. And what he could do to me. With me. TO me.

Fuck, I knew what I wanted. And maybe Ashton could help.

"Look, you want to make it up to me? You want to make sure I don't go blabbing to the YMCA or the police or whoever?" I ask.

"Whomever." Ashton mumbles. "Yeah." I grab her phone out of her hand and punch in my throwaway email address.

"Here - I'm going to give you something really good to film, but you have to send me a copy. Deal?" Ashton's eyes light up.

"Really? Here?" I shake my head.

"Not here."

###

The men's locker room is nearly deserted, thank the gods, as you and Ashton march inside. I can hear the sounds of rushing water from the communal showers and make a beeline to them. Peeking inside you see Christina, his muscular back turned to you, humming softly to himself and soaping his chest.

You quickly pull off your clothes and give Ashton a nod. She takes up a discrete post to start filming as you enter the showers.

"Let me help you with that." I purr into Christina's ear, pressing my naked body up against his back and sliding my hands around his chest. He goes stiff,

"Ryan? What the hell?" He says with no venom at all, my hands rubbing his firm torso, my soft breasts squishing against his body in the warm water. I nibble on his ear lobe.

"Look, you and I both know what we want." I reach down and grasp his firm cock, stiffening in my grasp, "Why not skip the coffee and just get to the fun part?" I slowly stroke him; base to tip and then back to base. He thickens, my hands barely able to reach around him.

"Oh fuck . . . I don't know." I move my hand faster, more purposefully. With my other arm around his body, I pull him back, perpendicular to the shower, giving Ashton the view of Christina's massive cock, rising up above a truly spectacular set of balls.

I get down on my knees, wincing at the hard wet tiles, but quickly forgetting my discomfort as I jam the bulbous head of his johnson into my mouth. I can barely get my mouth around it. I flick the slit with my tongue and am rewarded with a rumbling groan somewhere in the wet vortex of shower water above me.

Grabbing the shaft with both hands, I push in as much as I can and suck, jacking his cock for all it's worth. He starts thrusting in time with my ministrations, faster and harder. His penis swells, weeping salty pre-cum. I pull the cock out with an audible pop.

"Don't cum yet, I want you inside of me." I say. I give his throbbing manhood a teasing lick and gentle stroke but he reaches down and with those big meaty hands under my arms, lifts me to my feet.

"Now. We will fuck now." With a rough jerk, he turns me around, pushing my legs apart. Oh fuck. The roughness goes right to my pussy, now as wet as the shower around me.

With one hand on my hip, he lines up his cock and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pushes it inside me.

"oOOooooooo" I moan lewdly, spreading my cheeks to provide easier access as he bends his knees to get that angle just right. I feel full, stretched, complete but he keeps pushing, putting more and more of his big black cock inside me.

I turn back, looking at him in amazement and horror as he finally, finally, reaches the base of his cock. My body quivers at the full length of him, squeezing him from the inside.

He grabs my hips with both hands, his fingers hot, pressing into the soft flesh of my curves and he begins to move. He slides himself back out and in, slowly, deliberately, bottoming out and building a rhythm.

My world is spinning, the heat, the sensation, the raw feeling of him inside me. I stare at the mottled tiles in front of me as the wet slapping fills the air, his thrusts more forceful, causing my vision to swim.

"Uh huh. Uh huh! Uhhhhh!!' I moan as he jacks off with my pussy, my body flailing limply as he uses me for his own pleasure. Faster and harder he fucks me up against that wall. I press back, bent over to give him the best angle but he didn't care, he just railed into me.

Eyes shut, body taut like a bow, muscles churning, he worked behind me. Finally, I feel him swell inside me, becoming even bigger if that is possible as he slammed me tight against him. He howled, a mighty, primal roar and I felt a gush inside as his cock belched hot, sticky seed deep inside my twat. Load after load, he delivered into my cunt, till his cock was ringed with white at the base and it dripped out onto the shower floor.

I took a ragged breath, and turned off the shower, pulling the wet hair from my face as he slowly pulled out of me, delivering another wet splat of cum onto the shower drain. Suddenly, his lips were on mine as our bodies pressed together in a wet, post-coital kiss.

Finally, we pull apart.

"Thanks." He says. "That was amazing." I glance past him to see Ashton, her pants unbuckled, her hand working frantically within her panties as she leans up against the sauna door.

"I'm so glad I could help." You say, still breathless. "Catch you later." And with that, I stagger, bow-legged, back to my own towel and pile of clothes, trying to make sense of what happened. Ashton pulls back out of sight as I move past but I pay her no mind.

I dry off and dress as quickly as I'm able and slip out of the men's locker room, the cool air of the building a bracing refresher. Finally in the right mind, I glance at my phone.

Seventeen missed messages from my wife Brenna and two from Becka. Oh shit. I think, what the hell happened now?