It all began a month ago when my father Malcolm retired from the police force due to him having post traumatic stress disorder. The crime wave caused a riot to break out and an all out war between criminals and cops waged throughout the streets thus killing many officers and wounded several other including my father. On many nights I often hear him having night terrors and other nights he just doesn’t sleep at all and I worried about him greatly: I worried that he would commit suicide or something so I went online to find something that could maybe help him sleep or at least put him at ease…and I did.
Three weeks ago, Dad came downstairs and into the kitchen with a smile. It was always great to see those,
“Mornin’ Mikey. Mmm, smells great!” With Mom dead for a few years now, I usually did most of the cooking. I decided to cook his favorite meal: eggs, bacon, buttered toast, sausage, orange slices, and a nice glass of juice. Little did my father know that I grounded up two pink pills into his food, a pill that I researched call Femicil; no poison or anything, I’m not an idiot…at least not a complete idiot,
“Yep, made your favorites, Pop.” After he thanked me, I smiled when I saw him devour his food. All I needed to do was wait and see what would happen. However I had errands to run so I told him,
“Listen I got things to do in town. I’ll be back in an hour or two.” After the war broke out, we moved to the country just an hour from Crystal City. I could see in Dad’s eyes tht he didn’t like me going out but he didn’t argue, instead he just nodded,
“Alrighty then, if you’re not back by night I am calling the cops.” I just rolled my eyes and pat the old man on his back before I left. I was glad he worried but I just wanted him to rest his heart: he was in his late fifties afterall and I didn’t need him developing heart problems.
Just thirty minutes after I was gone, Dad was sitting on the couch when he felt himself starting to get worked up: his heart was beating and he felt sweat coming down his head but that was nothing compared to the massive erection that seemed to literally spring up from flaccid to hard in less than two seconds making him let out a loud groan of pleasure. Giving no choice (more like no control), Dad began to jerk himself off intensely before feeling the best orgasm of his life and upon feeling his seed spray across himself, he felt his body begin a change: he went from stout to skinny and muscular which blew his mind until his erection came right back.
When I came back home, I nearly flew back into a wall because on the couch, I saw an the embodiment of sex gyrating her hips on a rolled up blanket and moaning like a wanton slut,
“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” First thing I thought was the next question I said, “Did he order a stripper or pick up some kind of prostitute?!?” That’s when the woman turned and looked up to me before licking her gorgeous lops,
“It won’t stop…I…need…YOU!” The woman orgasmed with a long hearty moan and her dark brown hair suddenly became bright blonde which made me back up,
“…Where is my Dad?”
“You’re looking at him, stud.” Wasn’t long before I put the equation together: the pills did this if this is what I think it is,
“D-Dad…?” That’s when her lips came into contact with mine for the most mind blowing kiss I could ever think of having, I think she orgasmed again because her eyes went from brown to blue,
“Every time I cum, I look different. I’m not him anymore…”
Minutes later, we were fucking like pornstars in my bed with her on top of me. I got rid of the idea of who this person was this morning and replaced her with Malerie, the embodiment of sex and beauty. When she orgasmed again, I watched as her already amazing tits doubled in in size as she let out a quiet moan of,
“Oh shit…” I don’t think we stopped until the next morning then we passed out for an entire day. Her lust for sex died down but we still did it every night and we never regretted a thing. I think she’s happy with her new life: country girl who works as a bartender who comes home to the best boyfriend she could ask for: she’s my Mal.
