Switched Ch. 05

Welcome back to the story! Read the previous chapters if you haven't, unless you don't want to. Be advised there is freaky body-swapping sex in this story. Everyone doing sex in the story is at least eighteen years old.

Special thanks to icedragonmo3 for excellent beta-reading and proofing. Any mistakes are my own doing.

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SWITCHED

CHAPTER 5: FROM SCRATCH

SELFIE

Jessica

No one who looks this good in underwear has any right to be sad, I thought, as I turned my body this way and that in order to appreciate the view. I wore a peekaboo bra of mesh and lace that flattered my firm breasts with panties that accentuated the sexy curves of my hips.

I loved this body and now it was all mine. It was time to celebrate, and to shower the man I loved with my gratitude.

My hair was not so lovable. I'd had to slash it off in battle with a giant plant monster. Just one of the hazards of being a super-powered badass, I guess. I styled it as well as I could, I then applied a little sultry eyeliner and red lipstick. I set the breakfast I'd ordered on the tray, and finally, I put on the heels.

I was no good at moving in heels. I'd practiced, just a little, but it took fifteen minutes to get to his bedside. The whole time I was sure the cups and plates rattling on the tray would wake him up.

It did. His eyes opened and found me. He smiled.

"Sit up, Lover," I said. Damn, I had a good sexy-voice.

He sat up and recoiled in fear. "No. No. Put it down."

"Aww, c'mon, I'm not that clumsy!"

"Bull. Shit. Remember that photo booth you burned down?"

"I have an alibi for that! Now come sit down."

I didn't back down from our staring contest and he reluctantly returned to his spot.

"There, see?" I took a step toward the bed, then another. I wobbled, but caught it. Truth be told, I was at my best on these bloody stilts when I was moving. It was just standing still that was hard. "I made it this far." I leaned down to set the tray in his lap, and that's when the handle broke. It just came clean away from the tray and dumped the whole thing on him.

My man was quick. He actually managed to save the juice and half the coffee. He complained so much during the clean-up operation that we both ended up laughing.

I kissed his temple and said, "I'm the reason you have good reflexes, aren't I?" Over the years he'd made fun of me for clumsiness. When we were in high school we did a tally. I'd broken at least thirty thousand dollars worth of stuff. More if you count shooting my father's Bentley with a BB gun.

We rescued most of breakfast and I ran off barefoot to get him more coffee from the pot. He sipped it while his eyes feasted on the sight of me.

"Feeling better today?" he asked amiably. There was no sign of the worry he had to have been feeling. I'd been acting a little traumatized since yesterday, when I'd gotten the thing I wanted most and lost everything else.

"It's hard not to. I've gone from sleeping on the floor in the cold to a luxury apartment. Plus," I rubbed his thigh, "I'm with the man I love."

I could say that now without getting a little shiver of surprise. "I never in a million years thought I'd be here."

"It's nice, isn't it?" he smiled over the rim of his coffee cup, but he thought I meant the apartment his parents had loaned us.

We'd arrived yesterday. He'd had to clear out some lobbyist, but it only took a phone call—those guys would do anything to please a Coleman.

I would, too. Even now, I was trying to figure out how I could give him sexual pleasure with a tray in his lap and his mouth full of semolina pancakes and fruit.

I didn't figure out a way. Wasted most of breakfast trying to suck his toes, but he was too ticklish for that to happen without knocking the tray over. Eventually I just cuddled up to him while he ate.

"You're not hungry?" he asked.

"I've got to watch my figure," I told him.

"Please, you've got miles to go before you're even close to overweight."

"It's not about weight, it's about ownership."

And speaking of ownership... When he was done with his food he set the tray aside. I got my new phone out and pulled the covers down to his thighs.

"Shh," I soothed when he opened his mouth to ask what I was doing. I needed him hard, so I wrapped my little hand around his big, floppy piece.

Hard as it was for me to admit, I got turned on when my face got close to his cock. There was no way I was going to suck it, though. I was practically all woman these days, but I'd never go so far as to do that. Luckily, touching it was all it took to get it hard enough for photos.

I pressed my lips firmly against his lower belly, to the side and slightly above his cock. Withdrawing, I saw I'd made a lovely red lip print. I took a photo with my phone.

"I needed new wallpaper," I said.

"So my dick is going to be visible to anyone who looks over your shoulder while you're using your phone?"

"It sure is," I grinned. "Your face isn't in it, though. I'll just tell people it's my favorite pornstar."

"Your favorite pornstar is Roslyn Bows," he corrected.

"True. You should get in the business, just so you'll eventually get to fuck her, and I'll get to watch."

"Wow."

"That's right, Cowboy." I winked.

"What now?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I do want a selfie," I teased.

"What kind?"

I gave him a lazily sexy smile and ran my fingertips around his hard-on. "Me, after I've been fucked hard," I said.

He took me from behind. There wasn't a moment's hesitation. I went from teasing to full penetration before I knew it. The panties were shoved aside. His rough hands tore at my bra until they could close on my bare tits. He held onto them while he pounded me and my whole body shook when he came. To make it even better, as my orgasm began he shoved me down, hard, and punished my pussy as I cried out and moaned.

I took a selfie after, eyeliner streaked and lipstick mussed, hair everywhere and bliss written all over my face. He was still in me, in the background.

"That's my lock screen, covered," I giggled.

"Now I want one," he rumbled. I handed him the phone and he got the rear view. "Turn over," he commanded, and got one of me on my back lying disheveled and freshly fucked with my panties still askew.

"Put your finger in your pussy," he commanded, and it felt so sexy to do that for the camera. He took a shot of that and said, "Now lick your finger."

I raised my cum-covered finger to my lips and licked.

"How's that taste?" he asked.

"Is it weird that I don't like it, but I want more of it?"

"It's sexy," he smiled, and took a picture.

"Can I see?" I asked. He turned the phone around but I pushed it away. "Through your eyes."

"Kinky," he smiled, and I Switched with him. Whoa, this really was a sexy sight.

Bryan, in my body, smacked her lips. "There is something about the taste." She gave me a sly look. "It makes you horny, I can feel it."

"Does not! It makes you horny, maybe." Seeing her expression start to fall, I hastily went on, "Okay, fine. You want full disclosure?"

"Always."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "It's liquid girl-viagra. It makes me want to fuck a whole soccer team."

"They must be why you're such a mess down there," Brian said beneath me, smiling still.

I got a close look at her dripping pussy and the big glob of frothy white stuff coming out of it. I licked some up, making her gasp.

With ill intentions, I teased my tongue lightly around her lips, making her gasp.

"More?" I asked. This would be farther than Bryan had ever gone, sexually, in a woman's body.

"Yes," she replied, unable to look at me.

First I pulled her panties off. I feathered my tongue along her inner thigh as I neared her sex. I was taking it slowly so she'd get the full impact of what was about to happen.

My feathery tongue up and down her lips made her whimper. She wouldn't stop playing with her tits. I could well understand that urge.

I licked her lightly around her inner lips and she twitched her whole body, then let out a long breath. With my tongue, I smeared cum all over, and slowly, thoroughly, I licked her until she was sparkling clean and panting with need.

"Stop teasing me," she whined. Her body shivered, because she'd just figured out that saying sexy things was just as much of a turn-on as hearing your partner say them.

When I applied a little suction to her nubbin she tensed, making a girly moan. "Yes," she breathed.

I sucked her clit slowly and savored it. I really did miss this. I doubted Bryan would want this to be a regular thing, so I savored the experience by licking her slowly, and that meant I teased her more, which was just a bonus.

"Doing okay up there?" I queried when she groaned.

"Don't stop. Mmm." Bryan in my body loved the sexy noises I made in bed. Now, making them, she was realizing just how submissive it felt.

I entered her with a finger and she said, "Ahhh shit. Shit." I pushed it in a little more and swirled her clit with my tongue and this had the desired effect of Bryan singing a short, one-note song.

Now she looked down at me. She was there, now. Every consideration of decency and masculinity fell by the wayside as she decided all she wanted, right here and now, was for me to make her cum. Her thighs flexed around my head and her hips rocked slightly. She picked up her hand like she was going to reach down there, but thought better of it and set it back on her tit.

When I inserted a second finger, she groaned long and low. Her hand shot out and grabbed a hunk of my hair. "Oh, fuck, Baby!"

"G-spot," I helpfully pointed out, and as I tickled it she made a fist in my hair and flung her head from side to side.

I sucked her clit and began to push my fingers in and out of her, and she lost it. "Ahh fuck. Ahh fuck. Oh yes—fuck! Ohhhh baby." She shut her mouth on what she wanted to say next, staring through me.

It was best at times like this to keep to a steady pace. I knew from personal experience that it drove the ladies wild. Bryan was literally holding her breath and trying to pull my head up through her pelvic bone. Her body tightened, her lips pressed firmly together. She urged me with her eyes, though to do what I didn't know.

Her chest swelled and her face turned red, and finally, she burst out, "Harder! Harder! Fuck me harder! Aaaaaagh!" She'd tried to resist begging for more, but she couldn't, and that just made it all so much hotter. She began to moan.

I clenched her little buttcheek with my other hand, digging in my fingernails, and her moans went up an octave. She clamped her taut thighs around my head.

With a titanic shout and a rush of fluid, Bryan orgasmed. Her cries went on, fading to a contented sigh.

I was raging hard. When she released me, I crawled up to kiss her, following powerful imperatives, and even though I touched her gently between the legs with my cock, she pushed me away and shook her head. "No way."

"You'll change your mind when we Switch," I told her, and activated my power, returning us to our own bodies.

In Bryan's body, I'd just licked this pussy, so after the Switch I found myself in a post-orgasmic high. Bryan had just returned to his own, incredibly turned on, body, and promptly pushed his cock in me.

He made love to me slowly. Our bodies moved together in an unhurried rhythm while we made out and gazed into each other's eyes. There was no sound but the creak of the bed and our hot breath, and the soft smacks of kiss after kiss.

It was the most perfect morning ever. I was so in love with this man. We could start every day like that, as far as I was concerned.

We took turns in the bathroom. I flipped on the TV while he was cleaning up.

It was playing a commercial, "—eed a leader who's strong. One who knows what's important and remembers his people. We need Chase McKenna for State Senate."

This was the worst day of my life.

*

Tweed

Bryan

"What the fuck!" Tawney marvelled as we stepped out of the Audi and she got a good look at the building rising above us.

I checked her out while she ogled the building. She did a fine job of filling out her short, plaid dress and I enjoyed the way her red-blonde braid moved with her, drawing attention to her perky butt.

"This place is swanky as all get-out! Look at that!" she exclaimed as she pointed to the giant, crystal chandelier glowing above the opulent staircase.

"Right?" I agreed. Staffers held the doors as we went inside.

"Wow," she said, looking around the lobby.

"Yeah."

"Jesus," she observed, as we rubbernecked through. I was taking her the long way so she could appreciate it.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?"

My companion looked askance at me. "And you live here? In a hotel room?"

"I live in an apartment. They have permanent residences here."

"You have an apartment at the Four Seasons?"

I grinned. "My folks do. They're letting me use it for awhile."

"I bet it's swanky as hell?"

I shrugged.

Thanks to proper rich people insulation, it was as quiet as a tomb on the thirty-fourth floor. Once I opened the door, however, the music ran us over. It was loud enough that the band itself could have been in here playing live.

"What's this?" the blonde asked of the stack of dead televisions by the door. She poked through them, noting the smashed screens.

"The McKenna campaign has started running ads on local TV," I explained.

She glanced sharply up at me. "Jess's work?"

"She usually throws the remote, but look at this one." I lifted a couple off the top to reveal a thoroughly-shattered screen. "She beat it with an eight thousand dollar sculpture."

It came as a surprise when my friend put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "You're a good friend."

"But not good enough, because... Well, just come see."

Without giving her time for the usual reassurances, I went down the hall. I didn't need someone telling me I was a good friend, I needed someone believable to tell Jess she'd be okay.

I ushered her past the ridiculously clean mirrored kitchen and into the living room. It was open and airy with gorgeous views of the city and our own personal terrace, curated art on the walls and sculptures on the bookcases, plus the usual incredible designer furniture.

Jessica had added a half dozen mannequins in various states of disrepair.

"What the hell?" our guest asked, but she didn't have to wait around for an answer. With an ear-splitting scream, Jess sprinted into the room and murdered one of the mannequins with a broadsword. Before it fell, she spun and relieved another of its leg, using the follow-through to set up for a two-handed overhand throw in our direction.

Seeing us, she stopped just shy of hurling the sword, balancing on one leg. Her eyes were wide as they took in the sight of our friend.

"Tawney," said Jessica. Wonder filled her voice. "Hey!"

Tawney looked good, I had to admit. Her strawberry blonde braid was perfect with nary a stray hair, and her outfit of leggings and a plaid button-down with the sleeves rolled up went perfectly with her cowboy boots and split the difference between sexy and approachable.

"Catch you at a bad time?" she drawled.

Jessica was wearing nothing but a tweed skirt and a pair of lace-up sandals. She was glowing with exertion, her hair sticking out in every direction and her mostly-nude body covered with a fine sheen of sweat. I had to admit she looked good, too, but in a totally different way.

"Not at all," panted Jessica. To the closest mannequin, she said, "Take five," and flipped the sword at it. The point went a few inches into the torso and then spun back out and clattered to the floor as the dummy toppled. It was loud enough to make a person wince.

I tossed her a towel. "Omigod it's so good to see you!" she gushed as the wiped herself dry. She rushed forward and wrapped her friend in a hug. Tawney returned it hesitantly at first, but after a moment, she closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against Jessie's.

Jess pulled back, holding her waist so they were nose to nose. "I've missed you," she said.

"Then why didn't you call?"

Jessica looked guilty. "I don't have a phone."

Tawney narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't you come by?"

"No car. No license. No identity."

"You could have borrowed a phone," Tawney pointed out. She was not the type to just let stuff go.

Jessica broke the embrace and turned away. Her gaze swept the wreck she'd made of the room with newly-discovered guilt. She kicked a mannequin in the crotch and it fell over, then hung her head and muttered something.

Tawney was kind of a hardass, but she wasn't completely without empathy. She approached our girl and put a hand on her back. "What was that, Love?"

Jessica looked up with red-rimmed eyes and repeated, "I wanted you to have happy memories of me."

Tawney gave me a worried look. I'd explained all this in the car, but apparently she hadn't thought it as serious as it was.

To Jess, she said, "I won't be happy unless I can spend time with the people I care about." What an incredible person she was. She could be as hard as a tack hammer one second and as gentle as a lullaby the next, always the right tool for the job.

On the verge of tears, Jess wrapped her arms around the taller woman.

"Shh, it's okay," soothed Tawney, "Now let's get you a top to wear with your pretty skirt."

They went off to Jessica's room while I tidied up the carnage. By swapping out a few damaged parts, we went from six messed-up mannequins to five pretty decent ones and one disaster. I was coming back from putting that one with the broken flatscreens when I ran into Tawney.

"I put her down. She said she didn't sleep last night." Irritatedly, she asked, "Why in the hell didn't you call me sooner?"

"We've only been back a week. The plan was to get settled, then reach out and start... Tawney, she has to build a whole new life. She's afraid of messing it up."

"What do you mean, a new life? She can't be honest with her friends about what happened?"

I didn't try to hide the bitterness in my voice, saying, "She can't talk to her friends at all."

"Why is that?"

I crossed to the wet bar and dug the key out of my pocket. "Her original body is out there with a new occupant. An ambitious one. That person is running for office right now and expanding the family dynasty." I unlocked the bar and withdrew some bourbon, then put ice in a couple of glasses. "As far as anyone knows, that's Chase McKenna. Anyone claiming different will get carted off to a mental institution."

"But she can prove it. And it's not impossible, you know. Capes have been around for years."

"Yeah, but her father doesn't give a shit about right and wrong. Her proving she's the real Chase McKenna will hurt her father's political future, so he'll stop her. It's as simple as that." I put the booze back in the bar and locked it again.

"You couldn't pay me to be in politics," she shuddered.

I waved a hand around the room my dad's political career had paid for and shrugged. A splash of cola, a quick twirl with a spoon, and I handed her drink over. I sat down across from her and said, "She's got it bad, Tawney. I need all the help I can get, and you're the only other person who knows her."

She took her drink with thanks and sipped it, glaring at whatever it was she pictured in her head. Probably Jessica's dad. Then it hit her and she said, "Wait, so she's disowned? No Swiss accounts or nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Damn." Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "No wonder she's gone nuts, she's lost it." She shook her head in disbelief. "All of it."

Solemnly, I said, "Everything she owns. Her entire family, all her friends, possessions, and even her body."