Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 12

Warning: This chapter is rated a very sexy R and contains tits, wet t-shirts, cheerleaders, crazy parties, short skirts, high heels, white creamy stuff, body swaps, sexy butts, competitive performative bisexuality, butt-plugs, romance, dancing, butt plugs, strap-ons, philosophical angst, bisexual threesomes, body language swaps, everything going wrong, and two consenting adults engaged in emotionally therapeutic bouts of carnal fucking.

Girlfriend with Testing Device

- A Smutty Fanfiction, of Sorts -

= Part 12 -- Party Time! =

So, look. I'm not stupid.

I knew something was up. Evan may be a masterclass cuddler, and he's as affectionate as a puppy, but the idea of sex with a woman? It's always totally grossed him out. So when he suddenly can't seem to keep his hands off me? Yeah, something is up.

Sure, sure, me showing up and being his big strong hero is one thing, but that doesn't explain the level of want, the level of need, that he was bringing to the table. It was like a dam of sexual energy had burst and was flooding out in waves juicy enough to soak our sheets.

I know, I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. With the dry spell I was going through, a bursting dam was exactly what I needed. Who am I to complain if my totally gay boyfriend suddenly can't get enough of my dick? Who am I to complain if he suddenly seems to think that my body is the sexiest thing in the world? There are worse feelings than having someone find you so beautiful that they want to kiss over every inch of your body.

So... yeah, maybe I didn't quite say anything about him acting weird. If Evan wanted to go all night long, I wasn't about to say no. The important thing is that I realized something was amiss. Honestly, I was mostly just surprised. Evan can be shy at times, and I knew he had a sexual side, but I never knew he was so... insatiable. I was kind of weirdly proud of him.

I was more than happy to go along with it. Maybe it was bad of me, but I still couldn't stop staring at his huge tits. I thought they had been perfect before, but goddamn. Okay, that was one thing Elizabeth had done right. They were so high and tight, like ski slopes. You could break your neck on the damn things. I could go on. I could spend hours describing them. I got very well acquainted with those wonders. Fuck.

To tell you the truth? I think the sex was something we both needed. We were both so emotionally drained from everything that had happened at the strip club, and more than anything else, we really just needed some intimacy. I know that I, at least, needed to feel like I was loved... that I was cared for... and well, few things quite do the trick like having your significant other's sexy little face grinning up at you from your crotch as they try to see how many licks it takes to get to the center of your tootsie pop.

Or, well, that's how it should have been anyway. I still felt guilty every time I saw those lips rise. Oh my god, It was sexy, don't get me wrong. That smile was sexiness incarnate. But it wasn't his. I missed Evan's smile. He just had a way of grinning that made you feel like everything was going to be alright. And at that moment, that was something I think I needed to feel.

I just... I dunno... my life had changed so much since I got the device. In such a short amount of time. I was starting to wonder if it was all worth it. Like, I couldn't help but feel like maybe I just wanted everything to go back to the way everything was.

Great as the sex was, these thoughts sort of put a damper on things. And like I said, I'm not stupid. I knew something was wrong. Something wasn't what it should be. No one flips 180 on the matter of their sexuality like that. Not without the device. I don't know when it happened or why or how I noticed it, but something must have happened. I just couldn't get it out of my head, even as I probed Evan's dainty mouth with my tongue, or as I rubbed my throbbing man meat against his delicate feminine dick.

Of course I didn't realize what exactly he had swapped until I tried to get dressed the next morning. I had planned on getting up early and surprising Evan by sneaking out to buy more condoms, but, well, nothing fit.

I'd probably have panicked if not for the sheepish grin on Evan's face as he lay there naked save for the sheets covering his perfect little ass. Well, the grin was trying to be sheepish, but it mostly just came across as naughty. Mmm... maybe I'd have to punish him.

Evan explained everything: how he had tried to disarm the fight, how he had swapped me with a bouncer, and how he just found he just couldn't get over how sexy he found me as a result. I know I should have felt betrayed - or at the very least upset - but it was Evan. Hadn't I basically done the same thing to him?

What I mostly felt was curiosity. I'd never been the victim of an unaware swap like this before. I reached down and ran a hand along my naked body. It was hard and rugged and sexy. I was like a flawless collection of everything that made women hot. Not my original body, sure, but it seemed so familiar now. I hazily remembered picking out each and every piece of this body from those cheerleaders. Inch by inch I explored my features. The perfect feminine legs, the perfect feminine ass, the perfect feminine chest, and Evans dick, of course. Wait, was this not Evan's dick?

I let out a frustrated sigh. I had been hoping we could avoid going back to the club. After everything that had happened last night I... I don't know if I could bear to see Elizabeth again. Not after what she did. I clenched my fist. I was still boiling over inside just thinking about it. I guess though that this left us no choice. We'd need to go back and get... what? My body? Did I really need that? If worse came to worst, I could just get a new one, couldn't I? Besides, even if I got the old one back I'd apparently need new boobs anyway. Urg, but no, I wasn't about to leave Evan's dick behind, as silly as that seemed. I owed it too much. Maybe we could swap it without running into Elizabeth? Like some sort of dick heist? This would take some planning. I let out another sigh. Why had my life gotten so complicated?

Okay, okay. One thing at a time.

I slid into bed and wrapped my arms around Evan. It was brave of him to come clean about all this, and, knowing him, he was probably worried that I was going to be mad. I told him it was okay. I told him that I loved him and that I'd always love him, that I was happy that we could finally be intimate, and that I just wished he'd have told me sooner.

There's this girl who's blog I read religiously -- she's like my internet celebrity idol/crush -- and she's got all these articles talking about how when it comes to sex and relationships the most important thing is always good communication. In a relationship, there's a lot of emotions going on, even subtle ones, and you can never assume that your partner is a mind reader, even for someone who knows me as well as Evan does. If there's one thing I've learned from her, it's that it never hurts to just be open and talk about what your feeling.

I mean, don't get me wrong, the sex was a great big therapeutic thing too, and it was amazing - god was it ever amazing - but relationships are built on more than mind-bogglingly good sex. You have to talk it out sometimes.

So we talked. About our worries, and the device, and our future, and about little things and nothing at all, and that was pretty therapeutic too.

And as I lay there, playing with Evan's big puffy nipples, our bodies wrapped around each other like a mess of cables, I could feel Evan's great big girly dick begin to harden against my leg. I bit my lip as my own dick responded in kind. Before long I was rubbing my thick hard member against his soft she-meat, and then one thing led to another and before I knew it his dick was slapping into my stomach as he bounced enthusiastically on my thick, rigid cock, cowgirl style.

The day sort of followed from there. God, we must have tried every position. Occasionally, I'd feel bad for Evan's poor ass, but then he'd wiggle it around in front of me and suddenly all I could think about was going again. Maybe it was just because of the boobs, but he was filled with this weird sexual confidence. Like, he would just light up whenever I went near his crotch.

So we fucked again. And again and again and again. I'd go into more detail, but we'd be here all day and it's really not all that important to the story. The important thing was that we fucked long enough that we were almost late for the party.

Uhg, that stupid party. Looking back I wish we had missed it. That's where everything went to shit. God, we should have just stayed in and just kept fucking.

I was dressed in Evan's old (male) clothes. They were boring, baggy, utilitarian things, but at least they fit. Honestly, they still felt a little tight in the shoulders and the chest, and the length of the legs seemed a little short, but they would do. It felt weird. In my mind I was still the embodiment of feminine sexiness, so the idea of covering myself up with guys clothes seemed so counter-intuitive. Like, it was almost a shame. Evan said I looked good in it, but at this point I didn't really care about looking good, I just wanted to get Evan's body language back. At least the pants were comfortable. No offense to those tight jeans, but they were not designed for a dick like mine.

Evan, on the other hand, was dressed to kill. He had this white short sleeve top with a separated collar and a cute red little tie that drew the eye down into the prodigious cleavage he had on display as his boobs attempted to escape against a black-and-white blouse so tight that you could plainly see his belly button piercing. The top could almost get away as a kind of sexy secretary look, but his skirt annihilated any notion of professionalism. It was a pleated red tartan that couldn't have been any longer than the height of his open-toe stilettos. His skirt bulged prominently as his colossal womanhood struggled to escape from his bright red thong.

He actually had to struggle with it a bit to get it to stay put. It would be bad news if it got loose - even soft it hung well past the hem of the skirt. I had jokingly suggested that maybe he could just let it hang low and put a sock on it or something. I don't know what kind of arcane engineering he finally employed to fit it in those panties, but I hoped for his sake that it would last.

God, Evan was so beautiful. I took a moment to just appreciate that fact. I mean, he was beautiful on a level above and beyond the slutty clothes, the curvaceous body, and the come-fuck-me mannerisms. He was radiant. He sparkled in a way no other guy could. I was so lucky to have him.

He can be a little shy at times and this was actually kind of a big step. He was nervous. God, he's cute when he's nervous. I'm honestly surprised I was able to talk him into it. He had never been to this sort of party before. I could see why. They were fun, but they got a little crazy, and hey, I like crazy as much as the next girl, but the frat events around here are on a whole other level.

Case in point, you could hear the party from two blocks away. This was not a small social gathering. This was like someone had tried to pour twelve gallons of party into a two ounce cup. Booze and games spilled out from the front yard of the house to encompass the entire cul de sac. I guess when one frat parties, they all party. The body density was so great that the temperature rose several degrees just getting close. It was like some kind of hungry organism that had grown to fill every inch of available space. Packed didn't even begin to describe it.

In fact, as if to put in no uncertain terms what sort of party this was, on several of the roofs were colorfully dressed teams of curvaceous girls in these little string bikinis, who had apparently decided that that was the perfect spot to start making out with each other. My pants grew tight. Damn, that was way hotter than it had any right to be.

Getting anywhere near the house was going to be trouble. As far back as we were, it wasn't so bad, but there was an ocean of hot, sweaty flesh between us and the front door and it just got more and more dense the closer you got. Guys and girls of every color and shape were on display. And what a display. I couldn't rest my eyes for a moment without them washing down across some girl's nubile chest or thong-clad ass.

These girls, I'm sure, had been top-tier sluts before the party, but now it seemed like clothes were merely a formality. These were girls who would take advantage of any excuse to flash as much skin as possible. Heat rose up under my collar. It was going to be a long night.

Behind me I could just hear Evan let out a whimper. He was staring off at a group of shirtless jocks engaged in a borderline-homosexual competition to see who had the nicest body. I guess it wasn't just the girls who had come here to show off.

We did our best to push our way through the crowd, but the closer we got, the thicker the flesh became and the louder the music. The bass was pounding from unseen speakers with an aggressive playlist of party remixes and slutty pop songs so loud that it drowned out even the excited screaming that emanated from the crowd.

I jumped as I felt a hand on my ass, but relaxed when I realized it was Evan's. He was huddled up behind me to avoid getting lost in the crowd. A great crimson blush had made a seemingly permanent home on his face as he took in the debauchery. He was so cute. He was doing his damnedest to focus on me, but his eyes, like my own, couldn't seem to stop wandering. He was embarrassed, sure, but by the way his half-hard dick kept brushing against my leg I could tell that he was enjoying it too.

Evan and I - who am I kidding, it was mostly Evan, - seemed to be drawing a lot of attention. Heads turned as we walked past. Girls were staring at us with a combination of jealousy, lust, or smug superiority, depending on how they seemed to think we rated in their personal sorting algorithm. The occasional guy would stop to check us out as well, but I think they were a little subtler about it.

I clutched my bag close to me, feeling the reassuringly hard corners of the device within. This was easily the tenth time I'd checked that it was still with me. I couldn't seem to help it. After yesterday, I was terrified something was going to happen to it.

I did my best to scan the crowd for our target. I only had a hazy recollection of what she looked like - I hadn't been paying nearly enough attention to her face. She was blonde and she had a great ass, but that described half the girls here. I had hoped that being tall enough to get a good view would help, but it wasn't going to be nearly enough. I could feel the anxiety growing within me. How was I going to find this girl?

Suddenly, a cheer went up from nearby. Someone had filled a kiddie pool with what looked like some kind of sex lube, and now... oh god. Standing there, in matching red bikinis were a quartet of cheerleaders. I knew for a fact that they were cheerleaders because three of them were six-foot of bulging masculine muscle. They were bouncing on their toes and cheering and standing there with a kind of dainty grace that was completely at odds with their form. Jesus, their dicks were practically spilling out of those things. These were obviously some of those girls I'd swapped around in the bar on Thursday. Wasn't it bad enough that one of them had been at the club yesterday? And the mall the day before that? It was like everywhere I went they seemed to haunt me.

I felt bad for the fourth girl. I don't know if she hadn't come out to the bar that night or if I just missed her, but this was obviously some kind of jello wrestling thing, and she had no clue what she was getting herself into.

Not wanting to bear witness to the slaughter, we pushed past.

Its funny, I felt oddly indifferent to the plight of those cheerleaders. Like, okay, I had kinda messed them up - and all the football jocks too, come to think of it -- but I didn't feel any special remorse for them. Am I not being a better person? Should I not want to change them back? Maybe it was just... well, I really don't like cheerleaders.

It's nothing against the sport as a whole, I think the idea of getting out there and using your body to inspire and support is really cool, even if it's not quite my thing. The problem is that all the cheerleaders at this school are like, the mascots for the party-slut lifestyle and they get all catty if you're not a part of that world. Don't get me wrong, I like to party. Going out and having fun is an important part of the college experience and life in general, but that's not why I'm here, you know? But they don't understand that, and they're colossal bitches about it. God, I hate them so much.

Behind me, Evan was trying to say something over the noise and the music, but despite his best efforts I couldn't for the life of me make it out. Eventually he gave up and gestured towards what I thought had been a patio but right now looked more like a stage. They had a DJ setup, in the back. I don't know if he was a professional or just some hobbyist, but he seemed to have the crowd right where he wanted them. More importantly though, there was a pack of topless dudes in matching speedos holding these weird hoses between their legs in a suggestive manner. The crowd started going crazy and the music started to swell at the sight of them, then, right as the base dropped, the hoses let loose with a heavy load of thick white froth.

Foam flew through the air like freshly blown snow, coating the sea of revelers like the creme on top of coffee. Luckily, we were far enough away not to have to worry about getting completely drenched. Evan was laughing. I frowned. We were already squeezing our way through a packed crowd, this wasn't going to make matters any easier.

Something started rubbing against my outer thigh. I thought it was Evan at first, but to my dismay, some smoking-hot dark-skinned girl had apparently decided that she wanted to grind her ass up against me. She seemed to somehow already be down to her underwear, and with an ass like that, I couldn't blame her for the confidence.

My dick strained against the limits of my underwear. I did my best to turn away without being too obvious, but with the crowd so packed there wasn't exactly a lot of room to do so. Evan noticed my discomfort and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

Luckily it didn't take her very long to notice that I was making an active attempt to ignore her, and she decided to move on. Unfortunately, she next set her eyes (and hips) on Evan. He blushed and politely tried to tell her off, but there was no way she could hear.

It's funny, I know it's all in good fun, I know he wouldn't reciprocate in the slightest, but the sight of my boyfriend getting hit on like that... it was too much. I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn't help but feel the anger in the back of my neck. I yelled at the girl - told her to back off - but if she heard me she didn't give any indication. So I put a hand on her shoulder and tried to push her away. She fell back, giving me an angry glare as she struggled to stay upright in her fuck-me boots before falling back into the crowd. I guess I don't quite know my own strength.

The crowd grew ever worse as we got closer to the house. It was wet and slippery and foamy and loud. Hot almost-naked bodies collided as they pulsed and writhed to the music. It was like the crowd couldn't decide if it was an orgy or a mosh pit. Everywhere you looked it was grinding and humping people desperately reaching out for intimate human contact.