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Like a rubber band stretched beyond its limits, Mia snapped. She tossed her head back and screamed as her second climax wracked her body. Were it not for the huge smile on her face I would have been concerned that she was hurt but her writhing and grinding on me never stopped. The telltale orange glow that surrounded Mia pulsed constantly, shimmering brightly but evenly. She reached down and grabbed my hips, partially to steady herself and partially to deliver a very loud and clear message that under no circumstances should I stop thrusting. Mia's long nails dug into my sides. She leaned forward, rotating her pelvis in a small circle, grinding her clit in a small circle against me, as if she were squeezing every last ounce of stimulation into her orgasm. Several aftershocks rumbled through Mia, once again causing a delicious vibration through my monumental penis, which was still hard and saturated in a viscous cocktail of Mia's juices and my semen; despite the tight fit, rivulets of fluid seeped past Mia's labia and were pooling at the base of my cock.
Mia gave a quick squeeze of my hips indicating that she was concluding her climax. I slowed my thrusts to a standstill and Mia's hips and lips, which were still clamped tightly around me, came to a similar halt. After a moment, the death grip on my cock was released and we were both completely still, the only sound in the room our breathing and the occasional drip of sweat and cum onto the sheets below. Mia placed her hands on my chest and looked into my eyes. And started laughing. A joyful, delighted, laugh indicating profound relief and welcome exhaustion, like the laughter you hear when a roller coaster shudders to a stop at the end of the ride. Her laughing was infectious and I joined right in, my chest heaving. Now that the uncontrolled lust had run its course, the sheer lunacy of the situation seemed to have suddenly dawned on us. We were floating a foot above Mia's bed, with my 20 or so inches of cock still plunged inside Mia's 6 foot plus body.
This was not a normal morning, although my definition or even regard for normal were rapidly becoming a thing of my past.
I felt Mia's index finger push lightly against my chest and I began to slowly sink back to the bed, while Mia remained floating above. Inch after sopping inch of penis emerged punctuated by an occasional loud drip of fluids, which would cause another breathless laugh from the two of us. When finally my back came to rest on the bed, several inches of me were still contained. Mia effortlessly ascended and with a surprisingly loud pop we were separated. This was the first time we had both seen the penis -- I still couldn't think of it as "my" penis, so it was "the" penis -- outside of Mia, in its full height, girth and glory. It was mildly disturbing, an exaggeration that while pleasuring Mia seemed erotic but which now just seemed excessive. I knew Mia sensed my discomfort. She floated herself on to her side, laid a hand on the cum-slicked cock, and as she descended to the bed next to me, her hand slid down the shaft with inches disappearing beneath her touch. She landed softly on the bed and with a light and loving squeeze she removed her hand to reveal the penis that was the result of my unconscious body enhancement. It still looked odd but it no longer felt completely alien. This was my cock again. Sort of.
Mia laid her head against my chest with an arm draped over my waist. The familiar feel of her body pressed to mine was thrown off by her new proportions. She lazily laid a long smooth leg over mine, like a vine entwining a tree. As much as I love feeling Mia's small frame pressed against me, her sleek new legs felt luscious. And her rather large breasts, which were pressing against my torso, also felt firm and tempting. I lay still savoring the sensations of the new contact points between our bodies. It almost felt like I was with someone else, like I was cheating on Mia, but the unmistakable aura of warmth blanketing us reminded me who I was cuddling and caressing.
Mia broke the silence. "You seem to like me tall. I can sense your reaction to me slinking around you." She playfully rubbed her foot up and down my calf.
"I like you any way you want to be," I replied. "Tall, petite, curvy, redhead, blonde, bald for all I care. I'll love you anyway you are."
We both caught it at once. Love. I said it. It was a bit of an oblique statement, not a direct flat-out "I love you." But I had used the L-word. We had talked of love before, but always indirectly in impersonal terms, like making love or love as the purest form of positive energy.
Mia looked up at me. She was trying to hide an expectant look on her face but I could see that she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was paralyzed. Was this love? Was I in love with Mia or was I still, even after months of couplehood, still simply in awe of her and swept away by the experience of being with her? I had used the word. No one put me on the spot or wrestled it out of me. It had effortlessly flowed out of me in a moment of tenderness. And what about my physical transformation? Mia had explained that I manifested that out of my gratitude for her, wanting to be the best possible version of me in return for the various and amazing versions of herself that she had shared. Isn't that love?
The silence was deafening and awkward. And long. Too long. I could feel the anxiety building inside of me, unsure about what to say. Mia must have sensed it. The silver sparkle in her blue eyes faded almost imperceptibly, but I saw it. And still I said nothing.
At last, Mia lowered her eyes and started rubbing my stomach with her hand. "These changes are permanent, you know. Unless you want them undone. This is the new you."
Reprieved, at least for the moment, I jumped at the merciful exit Mia had offered from the uncomfortable -- and damn me for thinking that it was uncomfortable -- moment. "Really? How can that be? You said I was tapping into your energy when I unconsciously made the changes. Doesn't that mean you are maintaining them now?"
"That's not how it works. What you -- we -- did made no unnatural changes to you." I looked at her with a look of plain confusion on my face. "You're familiar with the concept of DNA. It's the blueprint for the human body, for any living thing actually. Your DNA determines the vast majority of the physical characteristics that you will have throughout your life. Unless that DNA is tampered with, that blueprint remains the same. But even with that blueprint, your body changes over time. You gain and lose weight, your hair turns grey, you injure yourself and you heal. All of those details can change but they are all consistent with the blueprint of your DNA. This," she waved her hand up and down above my body, "is all consistent with your DNA. There is nothing about your present physical form that violated the blueprint" She paused to let it sink in. "When I said you had become the best possible 'you' for me, I was being literal. My energy that flowed into you used your DNA to guide a re-crafting of your body, and since it was my energy co-mingled with yours you changed into the version of you that would be most appealing to me."
"But I still don't understand why the changes are permanent," I replied.
"Since your own DNA was used to guide the changes, the only energy required was to make the alterations, not sustain them. Energy flowed in, transformation occurred, and the new you is the result. The only change that would require additional energy to sustain is one that is inconsistent with your DNA. Those changes require constant energy and are therefore only temporary for as long as the energy is directed on them." Her hand glided down my stomach and came to rest over my softening penis. "Like your monster cock. Your DNA would not allow for a 20 inch penis, so to manifest that required me to pour energy into it, uh, you." Apparently she was having as much difficulty thinking of that beast as part of me as I was. "Don't worry, though, we can always bring it back again whenever we want." She gave my cock a gentle pat and returned her hand to my mid-section, idly running her nails across my well-defined abs.
"I get it." I thought I got it. After a brief pause, I continued. "You said I might want to reconsider my new penis size. If my changes were plugged into your energy and represent your desires, do you really want me to reduce it?"
Mia looked at me -- not unkindly -- like I was an idiot. "You saw what we just did, right? You saw how badly I wanted you filling me up. So much so I that I grew your cock to mammoth proportions and had to grow myself to accommodate it. I LOVE the feeling of being that full, having so much of you inside me. So, of course, my desire would be for you to have the biggest cock possible." I nodded. "But having a 13-inch penis" -- so that's how big it was -- "could be an inconvenience to you. And since we can always expand it if we want to, having a more practical sized cock would be just fine."
I must again repeat that I am a guy. So after that explanation, with the offer of having Mia grow my penis at will for the purpose of mind-blowing sex, my takeaway was, "So how come my DNA didn't give me a 13-inch penis to begin with?" I can be such a moron.
Mia just laughed. "There are a million things that can alter the fine details of your physical self from the moment of conception until your dying day. Just because your DNA says you can have a 13-inch dick doesn't mean you're going to get one."
The next question seemed pretty obvious to me. "What size do you think I should be?"
Mia closed her eyes for a moment, then sat up, reached both hands down and wrapped them around my cock. A golden glow formed around her hands and I watched as my penis contracted. When she removed her hands, I looked to be about 10 inches. "That looks about right," she said, admiring her handiwork. "But just to be sure..." Mia leaned over and slurped my cock into her mouth, her lips coming to rest in my pubic hairs. She pulsed the entrance of her throat against my cockhead a couple of times and then slid her lips up the length of the shaft. My head exited her mouth with an exaggerated pop. "Yup, that's about right." She grinned wickedly.
I grabbed her and pulled her on top of me and kissed her. For the first time, I felt her entire tall frame laying on me. She felt good, soft but firm. She oozed strength and femininity. And her kisses were melting me. There was no urgency to the kissing. It was relaxed and languorous, and felt so right. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her a little harder against me, relishing the feeling of her breasts pressing my chest.
We kissed for two or three minutes, the pace and intensity never changing. This wasn't foreplay, although I was certainly aroused. This was intimate sharing, two lovers celebrating each other. A thought slipped into mind, not with any drama or fanfare, but gently and effortlessly not unlike the kisses we were sharing. This was love.
I broke the kiss and looked into Mia's eyes. "I love you," I said.
"I love you, too," she replied. She laid her head back on my chest and I held her tight. I felt Mia begin to shrink in my arms, returning to her natural petite frame. That made me smile. At that moment, more than anything else, I wanted to hold Mia, just Mia. So I did. For hours. We lay together, Mia resting on top of me, light as feather and warm as a blanket, a tingling shimmer of energy wrapped around us.
It was early afternoon by the time we finally broke our embrace. I don't know if we napped so much as just shut off our brains to everything but the sensations -- the feel, smell, sight -- of each other. The rain from the morning had broken and was replaced by golden sunshine, this time coming from outside. With a last firm hug, Mia got up from the bed and looked out the window. I got up, placed both feet on the floor, and promptly crumpled to the ground. Mia turned around and began howling with laughter. It had not occurred to me as I swung my feet to the floor to get out of bed that the weight distribution and responsiveness of my new musculature might be unfamiliar and therefore difficult to immediately control. When my feet hit the floor, my brain did not register the familiar feeling of the arches of my feet grudgingly flexing and redistributing my weight. Without that signal from my feet, my legs were unsure what to do, like I had just stepped into a deep puddle, so instinctively they flexed to avoid a jarring blow when my feet finally did come to rest (which was not going to happen, but my legs didn't know that). When my legs flexed, the added muscle mass of my thighs caused me to pitch forward. In an attempt to counterbalance, unaware of the location of my new center of gravity, my upper body reflexively threw itself back ward, pivoting me at the waist. The result was my back and head getting thrown into the side of the bed while my legs bent forward and twisted, leaving me in a heap.
Great. Less than a day in the perfect body and I broke it already.
Fortunately, the only damage was to my pride. Mia walked over, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter, and hauled me unsteadily to my feet. With an arm around my waist, Mia steadied me while I tentatively rocked up and down on the balls of my feet, letting my brain register what "feet on ground" now felt like. I felt like one of those newborn colts I'd seen on the science shows on TV.
As it turned out, one of the characteristics of my restructured body was that it was nicely symmetrical and balanced, so if I could just get my conscious brain out of the way and let my midbrain take control of my motion, I'd be fine. After a few minutes of guiding me around the bedroom, Mia disengaged and I started feeling comfortable enough that I could walk on my own. Progress was rapid from there and in a half hour I was able to walk, run, jump and generally do most anything I could before, only with far more ease and significantly less effort.
"We should really take you for a test drive," Mia quipped.
"I thought you did that already this morning," I replied, jumping up in the air to see how high I could go. Idiot.
"I was referring to your penis this morning. I mean we should take the 'new Paul' for a test drive." I turned around and Mia was standing there, one hand on my bicycle -- which she must have summoned that instant, special delivery -- and her other hand on a very sleek and shiny touring bike in, what else, bright orange. She had returned to her normal physique and was wearing form-fitting black bike shorts and a short-sleeved cycling shirt (also orange), sun glasses, and a white helmet. I looked down and found myself clad in the well-worn bike shorts and beat up lycra shirt that I had been wearing on the day I met Mia. "You up for it?" she asked.
"Sure, I..." I began and then stopped. We were suddenly standing on the very spot where Mia's faux hatchback had gotten a flat tire. The spot where we first met. The spot where my life changed forever. I looked around with reverence. During the four months that Mia had been gone I hadn't ridden my bike along this stretch of road. I had even driven miles out of my way to avoid having to pass this spot at all. And here I was again.
Mia, of course, recognized the significance of the spot and left me in my quiet reverie. I reached down and scooped up a small clod of dirt from the side of the road and absently rubbed it between my hands. "It's nice to be here again," I said and turned to Mia. "With you." I kept looking around. I'm not sure what I was looking for. I guess I thought that some place this momentous shouldn't look so ordinary. "There ought to be a monument or a plaque or something here," I said, only half-joking.
Mia waved her hand and the embankment on the side of the road for 50 yards in either direction was covered in orange marigolds.
"Perfect," I said. And she probably didn't know that I wasn't referring to the flowers.
"Shall we?" she asked, walking my bike over to me. I popped on my grungy helmet and mounted my trusty bike. I was able to quickly adjust to my new weight distribution, but started off slowly anyway. I wasn't sure what to expect from Mia's cycling skills or stamina. I should have known better. Like an orange flash, she sped off in front of me, her legs effortlessly spinning as she deftly changed gears to keep her cadence constant and easy. It took me the better part of a half a mile to catch up with her, more because of caution on my part not to get out ahead of the learning curve for my new muscles. When I was finally convinced that I knew what I was doing, I started pedaling and shifting in earnest.
I doubt if my DNA had bestowed on me Tour de France level cycling skills, but I sure felt like it had. Without lifting from the saddle my legs smoothly cranked, and I gained speed. A pace that would have exhausted me six months ago was barely a warm-up for me now. I closed the distance between Mia and me rapidly, which prompted Mia to speed up herself. What a sight we must have been: a tiny orange streak followed by a thundering pile of muscle perched on a bike saddle.
When Mia finally deigned to let me catch her -- I still don't know if she was just that well-conditioned or if she was giving herself an unfair boost -- I pulled up beside her and said, "Done this before, have you?"
She just smiled innocently and took off again. With me in pursuit.
The wonderful burn in my legs, which was far slower to appear and milder than usual, was doing wonders for me. I felt strong and confident. In less than a day, I had amassed enough confidence to literally open myself up to Mia so that we could co-mingle our energies and share our physical space, transformed myself -- albeit unwittingly -- into the physical form most desirable to her, utterly satisfied her sexually with an unworldly large cock, and perhaps most impressive for me, professed my love. It was a good day to be me.
Mia stopped her sprint and I quickly caught up, and we both fell into an easy and smooth pace. After a few minutes of quietly pedaling, I saw the intersection and the infamous diner come into view on the horizon.
"Hungry?" Mia asked.
"Starving," I replied.
"Good. It's your turn to buy here anyway." I was about to plead poverty when Mia pointed behind me. "Your wallet's in your saddlebag. You're buying."
We pulled into the parking lot and since neither of us was sweating heavily, we propped our bikes against the wall, I grabbed my wallet form the bag, and we walked inside. I had started to reach for the lock around my saddle post when Mia gave me an "are you kidding?" look. I guess the likelihood of someone stealing our bikes was pretty low, or getting away with it at least. Not with Mia.
We walked inside and the booth near the back where Mia first worked her magic on me was open, much to the delight of both of us. We slid in and waited for the waitress to bring us menus. A look of vague recognition crossed the waitress' face. We just smiled at her. She walked back to her perch by the counter and waited for us to be ready to order. We ordered two turkey sandwiches, split an order of fries, and two iced teas.
Mia picked up the straw and swirled it in her glass. "Fond memories, eh Paul?" she asked. I blushed and felt my pulse quicken a bit at the memory of the disembodied blowjob Mia had treated me to in this same spot months before. "Don't worry, I won't do anything that will make you pass out this time." She paused, then added, "Unless you want me to." She winked slowly at me and her lips turned that delicious shade of red that she knows drives me wild. I held my breath as she lowered her lips to the straw, wrapped them seductively around it, took a long sip of tea, and... nothing. "Told ya," she said, smiling around the straw.
