“Are you sure about this, London?” I asked incredulously, looking down at the dimly lit candle that flickered silently between our bodies. She reached across the gap separating us, gently grasping my forearm. When her soft fingertips brushed up against me, my gaze shot upwards, catching hers. “Only of you want to…” she said longingly, her dark brown eyes gazing fixedly into mine.
London was a friend of mine. We’d met online, both having been searching for friends at our small, private college. She was a pretty, mixed-race girl with frizzy black hair and mocha colored skin. Her body, thanks in part to her Afro-heritage, was fleshy and thickset, accentuating her husky, shapely form. Her broad nose and plump lips were framed by a round, feminine face, which was currently illuminated only by soft candlelight. At the moment, she was sitting cross legged on her bed across from me, her large, creamy thighs disappearing into the folds of her skirt, the hem of which she was fidgeting with nervously with her other hand.
“No no… I absolutely do! I think it could be interesting too!” I said reassuringly, forcing myself to smile at her. Her proposition was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was disappointing her. She flashed her own smile back at me. It looked like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “Great!” She said, reaching out and taking my hands into hers. “You ready?” I nodded.
We closed our eyes and bowed our heads. I could hear London frantically whispering some sort of incantation to herself, but I couldn’t make out any words. As I pictured the two of us, sitting hand in hand on a bed with our heads down I couldn’t help but feel ridiculous. I smiled for a moment, but stopped when I felt a buzzing begin to build deep in my core. I tried taking a deep breath, but couldn’t shake the unexpected, steadily rising feeling. London squeezed my hands so hard it almost hurt, her nails digging into my flesh as the buzzing turned into a low tremble.
I tried to speak, but my words were drowned out by a chorus of grunts, whines and gasps that the two of us were emitting almost in unison. A sharp electrical jolt shot through her arms, moved into my hands, and ripped through my central nervous system. I pulled my hands from hers suddenly, stumbling backwards onto the cushy bedspread as I opened my eyes. My vision was blurred by our dim surroundings, but as my sight came back into focus I was met with an unforgettable sight: My own pale, white face, staring back at me.
“Holy shit!” I gasped in a light, sultry voice that most certainly did not belong to me. “London… it… it worked!” I said breathlessly, looking down slowly, as I was nearly overcome by the surreal sight of a narrow torso that ballooned outwards into wide, feminine hips. This view was partially obscured by two fleshy mounds—her breasts—which protruded from my chest, sagging low into the lacy bra and tight, pink t-shirt that were wrapped around my new upper body. I eased my shoulders back, feeling the tight bra straps stretch a bit, uncomfortably digging into my soft back, as a wave of understanding washed over me, forming an unspoken kinship between me and every woman on Earth.
I held my arms out in front of me, watching intently as the motion squeezed my new chest, pushing the round creamy tops of London’s caramel colored cleavage against the inside of my shirt. I turned my palms over, and the short, brown arms that had once belonged to London tracked my movement perfectly. I really was inside her body.
“This is incredible!” London gasped in my deep voice. My focus broken, I glanced up at her, watching with amusement as she raked my hands up and down her flat chest. My body was tall and lean, with a noticeable amount of muscular definition visible through my outfit. My new face felt hot and I began to blush a bit (I was suddenly thankful for the shade of my borrowed skin) as I realized how attracted she’d been to me this whole time. I’d been denying it for the past few weeks, but now, as I stared at myself through her soft, dark eyes, I knew firsthand how handsome she really found me.
“I’ll be right back!” I said, suddenly climbing off the bed. I took a few experimental steps, allowing myself to acclimate to my new center of balance. My new bodyweight shifted in ways I’d never imagined as I walked towards her bathroom. My wide hips swayed beneath my skirt and my chest bounced lightly within the confines of London’s bra with each step. I, unaccustomed to wearing skirts, felt incredibly exposed. As I passed a floor vent, a cool, silent stream of air wafted between my legs, aerating the cotton panty-encased womanhood I now possessed. An unconscious, thrilling surge of excitement rippled through my small frame at the sudden recognition of the vacancy between my legs.
As I made it to the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror and paused to admire my new reflection. There, standing opposite me in the mirror, was London. It was unmistakably London. Except it was me? I was her? This still didn’t feel real. I began to gingerly poke and prod my face, pinching the wide bridge of my nose and tracing my soft, plump lips. The subtle, salty taste of London’s fingertips confirmed to me that this was, in fact, real life. I was inside her body, and I could see, hear, smell, taste and feel everything she could. As I pondered my new features, I considered the fact that I had swapped races, in addition to sexes, with my friend. I was inside the body of a black woman, and I’d inherited all the physical traits and proportions that came with it.
I pinched the hem of my shirt and slowly lifted it upwards, peeling it off my voluptuous torso. My vision was obscured for a moment, as I fiddled with the shirt, trying to get London’s curly hair (which was currently pulled into a tight bun on the top of my head) through the neck hole. When I finally got myself free, I dropped the shirt on the ground, revealing the sight of London’s exposed upper body clad only in a bra. I gently cupped the bottoms of her breasts, lifting them upwards gently and sighing in relief as the weight on my back subsided. It was an unusual feeling, having two fleshy appendages hanging off my chest. The only sensitive, drooping body part I was accustomed to having was the one that no longer hung between my legs.
I gave London’s tits a curious squeeze, silently pleased by the waves of pleasure that radiated through my soft, fleshy bosom. I allowed them fall back to my chest as I dropped my hands, letting them brush past my soft, round tummy. London’s body—mine at the moment—wasn’t fat, but she was nowhere near being lean. She (or, rather, I,) was pleasantly buxom. I suppose I’d never really noticed how beautiful she was.
Then, slowly, as if I was saving the most intriguing part of London for last, I lowered my gaze to my crotch. Her flowy skirt hung loosely around my hips, and was draped flat against my pelvis. I ran my fingertips across the front of the fabric, noting the lack of any visible bulge. I was about to pull back the waistband, when I heard the floor creak and felt a hot breath on the back of my neck.
“Oh my gosh, London I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird, I was just—“ I began to turn around, mortified at having been caught exploring her body, when I was met with a sight that made me freeze in place.
London was standing directly behind me, naked, with my cock in her hand.
A long strand of precum dangled precariously from the tip of my cock, as she slowly stroked her greasy knob. She took a step forwards, releasing her package and wrapping her long, muscular arms around my body. Her erect, throbbing penis brushed up against me, its tan and pink hue clashing with my cocoa-colored body as it streaked fluid across my inner thigh.
My dainty feminine frame trembled with involuntary excitement as she pulled me tight against her large, rigid body. “I’m sorry… I just… I need you…” she whispered into my ear with her deep baritone voice as she began to plant soft, slow kisses up and down the length of my neck. As her masculine musk reached my nostrils, a wave of new, sensual feelings swept through me, causing my knees to go weak. London, using her newfound strength to support me, squeezed me even tighter against her body. I was convinced that I was melting in her arms, and that my curvy figure would meld with her hard, masculine frame, fusing us together in a carnal embrace.
Her hands found their way into the folds of my skirt, each cupping an asscheek with a wide, open palm. With only a thin layer of cotton separating her rough hands from my bare ass, she began to squeeze and knead my doughy cheeks, gently splaying them with each pass. My nipples began to inflate, pushing outwards awkwardly and tenting my bra like daggers that intended to pierce London’s broad, flat chest.
Without warning, London clamped down on my ass and pulled me upwards, lifting me up and setting me on the counter. I gasped, in both shock and delight, as she moved me with an almost concerning level of ease. I’d never had another person scoop me up like a doll before. It was as if London could do whatever she pleased with me. This realization prompted an unfamiliar twitch from within my pelvis—a quick clench and release, as my body began to self lubricate.
“Holy shit London… I think I’m… err… you’re… getting wet down there!” I panted, lifting the hem of my skirt to reveal the evidence of my moistening genitals. A dark, slick stain had started to form at the crux of my new sex, and was slowly creeping outwards, seeping through the cotton threads of the girly panties I wore. Without hesitation, London grabbed my hips, hooking her large fingers in the waistband of my underwear, before ferociously yanking then down my thighs, and letting them fall past my knees and off of the counter. I yelped as the cold surface of the counter came into contact with my bare ass. The body I currently inhabited was much more sensitive to temperatures and sensations, it seemed. London’s steamy pussy, which at the moment was aching between my legs, was now fully exposed to the man that stood before me.
London shifted, and lowered herself between my thighs. Her hot breath on my borrowed vulva sent shivers up my spine as I held my breath in anticipation. Was she really about to lick her own pussy? Will I be the first man on earth to discover what this feels like? London grinned and I groaned as she tentatively touched her tongue to me then withdrew.
“London… that feels…” She dropped lower, and gently probed me.
I couldn't stop the low, almost pained moan that escaped my plump lips as I reached out and tangled my fingers into her light brown hair as she hesitantly and carefully explored me, tasting me. My chest heaved, causing my fat breasts to slosh to the sides of my torso as London slid her thick tongue back and forth across my sticky entrance, collecting the minuscule beads of moisture from my dewey inner-labia. She grew more confident as she felt how I was responding to her, as I had raised myself onto my elbows and was staring down the curvy length of my brown body, watching her as she nuzzled at me, tongued me, and even tried once or twice to penetrate my entrance with her tongue. She stared up at me with piercing blue eyes, then broke for air, grinning.
"It's... nice," London breathed. "Doing this to you as a man. Tasting you. I... like this. I like this a lot."
She lowered her mouth to me again and I writhed, whimpering. "Use... your fingers... in me..." I gasped in between her slow, excruciating licks.
I wasn’t sure if it was my new hormones acting up, but London had me wrapped around her finger. It was as if I’d adopted her sexual preferences as my own, simply by inhabiting her body. I let myself fall back, starting to finger and tease my erect nipples, shuddering as London lowered her mouth to me again.
Using her fingers, she gently parted my inner lips, probing and stroking and teasing against the tight line of my entrance. I arched upwards, moaning softly with her voice as London slipped my middle finger into me. Overcome by the foreign sensation of having something enter me, I flailed at her hand to hold it buried deep in me as London’s vaginal muscles clenched hard, twice, on her hand.