Just a Bit of Fun

A smooth face and pouty painted lips stared back at me. I pursed my lips again and gave the faintest flutter of a wink at myself in the mirror. It was too much. I felt my crotch seize with energy. The girl in the mirror had made the slightest little face and it made me so fucking horny.

But she was me.

I couldn't help but rub my hands up my bare upper body, feeling how slick and creamy my skin was. I bit my lip, watching the expression take form on the girl's face in the mirror. She was so fucking hot. I grabbed at my chest and rubbed my nipple between two fingers. I didn't have pectorals. I wasn't some hard toned guy. There was just enough flesh there to stand as tiny little titties, or at least I imagined so. I squeezed them, watching the girl in front of me make a face.

I was hooked. I had to complete the look now. My bare upper body made me seem naked now. I needed to find something to wear.

I sauntered back into the bedroom, letting my thighs slide closely together as I walked. I shot a look at the standing mirror near the corner and grinned as I watched the short haired alt girl walk past. Her ass stuck out behind her as she went.

I made my way to the closet and slid open the doors. A plethora of clothing hung in front of my eyes. I pretended to peel through the dresses and shirts as though I were picking something to wear out for the day. My every motion felt so feminine. I cocked my hip to one side, feeling the tug of the thong between my ass under the shorts I wore.

I fetched a shirt I'd seen before. I held it up before my eyes, wondering if it would stretch when I put it on. No. It was loose fitting. Holding it close, I grinned when I saw how it would fit me. I removed the hanger and tossed it aside. That solved the issue with the shirt.

Did... I need a bra?

My eyes had fallen to the clear plastic bin beneath the dangling clothing. It had four drawers, and I remembered seeing Miranda fetch her bras from one of them. I pulled open the first to see a mess of headbands and hair scrunchies. I considered them for a moment before I moved on. The second plastic drawer was the one with all of the bras.

It excited me to pull one out and hold it up in front of my face. The cups were huge though. I silently wished that I had enough flesh to sit in them. They were made to fit a girl like Miranda, not a slim little girl like me with boy tits. Still, I turned the bra over in my hands with the shirt draped over my wrist. Maybe I could just put it on. The cups might give the illusion....

I placed the bra back in the drawer. I knew what the little black shirt looked like. It would be sexier not wearing an empty bra I decided. After all, it was the one article of Miranda's clothing I was certain wouldn't exactly fit. I shut the plastic drawer, but eyed the others beneath it. As if I hadn't gone far enough, the urge to pilfer through Miranda's things took hold of me again.

The third drawer was full of sports bras and strange looking bands meant for forming a person's body. I scrunched my face up. Nothing seemed too interesting there. I had to squat low to reach the bottom drawer. The shorts tugged at me when I did, and I felt my panties hug even tighter in my crotch. I loved that feeling. I shifted just to feel the thong cut between my ass cheeks. I held my thighs wide like I knew I should, then reached to pull open the bottom drawer.

I froze. There was no clothing in the bottom drawer. An odd sensation wiggled up my spine.

I'd found Miranda's toys.

For a while I just stared at the open drawer. Out of all the snooping I'd done tonight, this was the most perverse thing I'd found. I thought about shutting the drawer and forgetting that I'd seen it all. I couldn't. I stayed my hand and just stared at the phallic objects in the bin.

A cloth lay beneath it all in the bottom of the container. Each item was separated carefully. I spotted a tiny black vibrator shaped like a bullet. Beside it was a long chocolate colored dildo with faux testicles and a suction cup at its base. It was enormous. Another smaller cock was a more reasonable size, pale and air brushed with teal veins along it's shaft. The thing looked so real I thought I saw it throb just lying there. A long string of gelatin spheres was coiled to the side.

Other tiny items littered the drawer. Odd metal rings and clamps were strewn about. A few clear bottles were nestled back into a corner of the drawer. I recognized a couple of metallic plugs, and I knew what they were for.

I stared at it all for what seemed like an hour. Part of me wanted to shut the drawer and turn away. I couldn't. I just kept eyeing the pair of cocks that lay in the middle of the drawer. It wasn't like I didn't expect Miranda to own such things. I just never expected to find them.

Especially not while I was dressed like a girl.

I blew out a long slow breath. Dark little thoughts were already weaving their way through my skull. It was ridiculous. Dressing in her clothes was one thing. I wasn't gay. I didn't want to touch her dildos.

And yet I didn't move. I kept staring.

I shut the drawer and stood up. Whirling around, I blinked away the deviant thoughts that were whipping into form. I focused on the shirt I'd found. Holding it up, I quickly slid my arms through the black fabric and tugged it over my head. Just like I thought, it fell just above my bellybutton. My midsection was exposed. The sleeves of the shirt barely made it over my shoulders. The neckline swung low and wide, but the shirt covered my upper body.

I stood before the mirror, a completed woman. Each time I blinked my lashes fanned the air. I shifted, watching my hips jut out wide and my bare midsection twist beneath the loose crop top. I straightened a single leg and watched my thigh bulge through the fishnet.

She was beautiful. She was me. I couldn't believe it.

Now that everything was in place, I knew I had to fetch my phone to take pictures. I needed to preserve this moment. After all the work I'd done, I wondered if that was all it had been for. A couple of pictures to look at in some bleak depressing future. Maybe I could post the pictures online somewhere deep and obscure, where no one would recognize me. The thought was thrilling, but wasn't enough to trump the other whispers in my head.

I glanced back toward the open closet door.

I shook my head and retrieved my phone. I started to take selfie shots. I didn't look like a model, but I was amazed at the job I'd done with the makeup. Staring at the closeups I was taking, I could tell that it was me. I was beautiful, though. Slutty even. It was an entirely new version of me that I'd never even dreamed possible. I wondered if I showed the pictures to someone else if they would even know it was me. I was transformed after all. Maybe I only could tell it was Zach because I was Zach. A passerby might not even blink.

The thought of someone else seeing me this way was frightening, but that made it exciting, too. I started to daydream about going out in public. Nothing extreme, just maybe... pumping gas or a drive through window. Something fast where I could leave, but be seen.

Why did I want that?

I stared at the girl in the pictures. She was hot. I was proud that she was me. I wasn't sure why, but that wasn't quite enough. I felt like I wanted to share her with others, and maybe they would think she was hot, too. I saw a "share" button hovering above my picture on my phone. Miranda came to mind. How would she react if I just sent her a picture? A huge part of me thought she'd be disgusted or weirded out. But there was a slim chance....

I tossed the phone on the bed. I couldn't do that. It was insane. Staring at myself in the reflection, I had no idea where to go from here. I thought of just watching shows. Then I thought of lying in bed in the clothes I wore, rubbing at the front of my shorts. I could find videos... to keep me company.

I tried it out in the mirror. I let my body sway and relax, like I was a ribbon caught in a breeze. I slid my hand over the front of my shorts. I caressed at the panties hiding beneath them. I stared right into the eyes of the girl in the mirror. She leveled her gaze right back at me. The girl bit her lip, then pursed her lips at me. I watched her lick her top teeth, the tip of her tongue barely touching her lip.

My dick swelled with renewed strength. Watching that face... Jesus, she looked incredible. I wanted to see what she could do with those lips. If only I could pull her out of the mirror. That wasn't enough though. I knew better. I knew those lips were mine. I knew I was making those faces. If it was me, why the fuck was it turning me on?

The thoughts started to chew at the edge of my mind yet again. It was getting harder to ignore. I felt so sleek and soft, so feminine. Naughty images assailed my eyes until I felt an aching hunger deep in my body. Every time my dick pulsed, I felt the thong pull at my asshole.

I glanced again at the open closet door. The bottom bin practically beckoned to me. It was absurd. I wasn't like that. There had to be lines I wouldn't cross. But I was running my fingers over the fishnets on my thighs and biting hard on my painted lip.

No one would have to know. It was just a bit of fun, right?

I was squatting in front of the bin. I slid the bottom drawer open slowly. My eyes ignored the clutter of clamps and rings. I knew what I was here for. My skin felt so warm, yet every breath I drew into my lungs felt icy and made me shiver. I finally reached into the drawer and let my fingers touch the faux flesh of the dildos.

My eyelashes fluttered. I wasn't supposed to be here, dressed like this, touching these things. I picked up the pale, realistic cock with the airbrushed veins. Tingles traveled over my skin. On some deep level I knew this was wrong. Just feeling the shape of the cock in my hand was a taboo unlike any I'd ever known. Not my first kiss, the loss of my virginity, not the time I'd spied on my sister and her boyfriend... none of it felt as thrilling and forbidden as holding this thing in my hand.

I squeezed the dildo. The outer layer of silicone felt so soft, but deep inside it's core was firm. I explored the thing, letting my fingertips trace the stiff flesh. I'd never truly had the opportunity to just stare at a cock like this. I encircled the shaft in my hand and stroked it. It was such a familiar motion that felt inverted and flipped somehow.

My eyes fell on the larger brown cock in the drawer. I had to know what it felt like. I reached for it and my eyes widened at the sensation of the weight in my hand. This one was so much longer and thicker. I closed it in my fist like the other, but trembled at the realization that my hand was only just able to tighten around the whole thing.

I held the dildos up before my eyes. A thought occured to me that made the entire situation feel even dirtier.

Miranda has used these.

The idea shot straight down through my body, pushing blood through my dick. Both of these cocks had been inside of my girlfriend. Even the big one. The black one. It had stretched her open and she'd no doubt climaxed. Her juices had been all over these things. The dildos wobbled in my hands. Both of them were much larger than I was. I wasn't sure why I even compared them. They were fake.

But they felt so fucking real.

I stood, carrying the loot I'd pilfered across the room to the mirror. I had to see what she looked like with dicks in her hand. The girl stared back at me, a look of shock on her face. Her mouth hung open. She couldn't believe what she was holding.

Something came over me. I saw how gorgeous she looked. The girl in the reflection was holding dicks. She lifted one, the smaller of the two, and brought it close to her face. My cock beat at its silk prison below. The tip of the silicone brushed her lips. My lips. I wanted to see more. I stuck out my tongue and dabbed it on the round head of the pale cock at my face. The girl in the mirror stared back at me, daring me to do more.

I squatted low right in front of the mirror. My thighs swept out wide. I planted the smaller dildo firmly on the glass, mashing the suction cup at its base flat. I did the same with the larger black cock, making sure it was firmly rooted before letting my fingers fall away. Both of the cocks bobbed from their own weight. The sight of them made me coil and grope at my fishnets.

The two cocks pointed at my face. I saw the nervous girl in the mirror bite her lip again. This was absurd. This was nuts! What the hell was I doing? The thoughts became distant echoes in the back of my brain. I arched my back, hunkered low, and opened my mouth.

A pale cock head slid inside my lips. My mind went spinning. I pushed my lips just across the soft rim of the dildo's head, then retreated. The entire time, I watched the dick slide into the girls mouth in the mirror. I saw her eyelids fall and her lashes twitch. A glaze slid over her eyes. My eyes. The reflection grew blurry. A bulbous silicone dick probed my mouth.

I slid closer.

The dildo glided into my head. I retreated, fearful and unsure. Each sensation of erect flesh was more intoxicating than the last. I kept driving my head closer to the mirror. My mouth slid further down the shaft. I closed my eyes, uninterested in the reflection for the moment. I focused on the feel of the dick in my mouth.

I was bobbing my head back and forth. I moved slow as if to savor every inch. It felt nasty and wrong, and I discovered that I loved that flavor. I pushed more of the dildo into my face. The tip jammed itself into my tonsils. When I pulled back, I saw a coating of saliva trailing away from my lips.

I let the pale dick drop from my mouth. I stared at it in awe. In that instant, I knew better than to second guess myself. I couldn't lie to myself after all. I loved every inch of what I'd just done. The need for more was so overwhelming. Every sane thought just evaporated in my head. All I could think about was a dick in my mouth.

I rubbed my fingers across the stiff flesh hiding behind my panties. My own cock was so hard that it hurt. I wove little circles with my fingertips across the tip of my dick and let out little moans.

I was so hard. I needed more.

I dropped my jaw wide and moved toward the darker dick. The huge tip pushed my mouth open even wider. I shoved my face as far along the cock as I could manage. It was no use. The thing had to be nine or ten inches long. I couldn't even take half of it in my mouth. I tried. I slobbered over the fat tip of the dildo and crammed it back toward my throat. It pushed at the back of my neck, but it was all I could manage.

I fell to my knees. It just happened. I craned my neck and nodded into the huge dildo. I arched my back, feeling my ass swell out behind me and the thong slice up between my ass. I could feel the shorts slipping down my bare cheeks. I clutched the chocolate colored cock in one hand and steadied myself on my knee with the other.

A distant masculine voice screamed at me from within. He tried to point out how ridiculous this was. He tried to tell me how gay I was wearing makeup and pushing dicks into my mouth like a girl. It only fueled the heat that was billowing inside of me. Every negative thought I had served only to spur me on. I knew it was wrong, or freaky, or absurd, and I loved every fucking bit of it.

Soon I was diving from dick to dick. The smaller pale cock plunged into my head, its tip bouncing through my tonsils with ease. The larger dick gagged me. I tried to treat it like the smaller one, but each time I forced the big brown tip against my throat, I pulled back to draw lines of phlegm down the shaft. A few times I coughed. My eyes watered.

I wished they were real.

It was a final dosage of truth that hit my brain like a lighting bolt. I couldn't deny it. I was dressed like a girl sucking my girlfriend's dildos in her house. I knew that if I had the chance, I'd dress this way and suck a real dick. I throbbed just at the notion of either dildo being real. I didn't know why I felt that way, or when it had truly started. It was like I was on drugs. I knew I'd do anything to get this feeling again.

How would it feel if....

I couldn't even finish the thought. My asshole tightened like a vice. I rose to my feet and began to shove the shorts to the floor. My brain couldn't keep up. I snatched the larger of the two dildos off of the glass, kicking the blue jean shorts away. I squatted back down, holding the dark dildo beneath me.

The tip glanced off my thigh, off of the fishnets I wore. I rolled my eyes. A stiff shaft of flesh was what I felt. I knew how it felt to point such swollen energy into the skin of someone else. The dildo prodded by sensitive inner thighs again, mashing up through the panties I wore, through my aching balls.

I drove my face toward the smaller dildo on the mirror again. The giant beneath me jabbed between my ass cheeks at my thong. I fully understood how deranged I was, how far this had gone. How much further would it go? Was I just moments from tugging my panties aside? I thought of earlier when Miranda had her finger inside of me.

I don't know how long I writhed and wriggled in the floor in front of the mirror. The pale dildo in front of me oozed with saliva now. It slid into my throat with ease. It didn't stop at my tonsils, but bent and dove into my neck. I rubbed my panties below, feeling the massive erection poking me. My balls were sore from the big black thing jabbing into them. I clutched it and beat it against the front of my panties. The firm heavy cock slapped my stuff shaft with such power. I wondered what it would feel like. I wondered if I was crazy enough--

"What the fuck?"

My eyes shot open. I snapped my head around at the sound of the voice. There was no hiding. Everything I was doing was right there for him to see.

Warren stood at the bedroom door.

I couldn't process it. Why? How?

Warren just gawked. I squatted frozen in the floor. A dildo dripped saliva next to my face, bobbing from the mirror. Another I held in my hand. Warren seemed to take several seconds to process what he was seeing.

"Shit, Warren!" I yelled, diving behind the foot of the bed.

"What the fuck are you doing, dude?" He cried back.

"I... Jesus, w-what are you doing here?" I shouted.

Warren furrowed his dark brows.

"Dropping off Randa's laptop for class," Warren shot back. "She said she fucking texted you."

It was only then I saw the small MacBook in his hand. My mind was spinning. Nothing made sense, it all hit my brain at lightning speed.

"She didn't... Miranda didn't fucking text me!" I said.

Warren scoffed. He turned his eyes from me, tossing the laptop on the bed. He put his hands up and backed out of the open bedroom door.

"Whatever," he spat. "I'm gonna dip."

With that Warren was gone.

Panic seized me. For several seconds I was frozen, tucked behind the bed. Why was he here? Why was Warren even dropping something off? Christ, he'd seen me. He'd fucking seen what I was doing. My eyes darted down my body, then to the dripping cock dangling from the stand up mirror.

I tried to slow it all down and make sense of the situation. My face was hot with embarrassment. Soon, it turned to frustration. Why was Miranda's ex boyfriend stopping by? I frantically snatched my phone from the bed. It tumbled to the floor. I cursed and grabbed it. Sure enough, I saw Miranda's text message.

Warren is supposed to drop my laptop by. Forgot to tell you. It's just something he borrowed for class.

None of the emojis she tacked on to the end of the message were enough to smooth any of it over. I knew she still talked to him. She never deleted their pictures. They were still friends. The laptop was for the college course they shared. Right.