Perils of being your own dream girl

Joe lay in bed tossing and turning, his new breasts flopping every which way. Worse than the fact that he couldn’t find a lay to lie down comfortably, his mind continued to race with sexy thoughts, and his pussy remained damp even though he’d been playing with it all day.

He rolled on to his back and looked down as one of his large boobs popped out of his shirt. Fuck it, he decided. He wasn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight anyways. He reached his hand down into his underpants and rubbed his by now almost familiar womanhood.

He moaned as he touched it. It still felt so incredible. He’d dreamed about having one for so long, he didn’t know if he’d ever get bored of it. Finding a wishing coin… he’d made his normal wish, to be his own dream girl. A hot girl with big tits. A girl even hornier than him, with a hair trigger body that basically always wanted sex. That had been almost twelve hours ago. He’d thought about trying to do other things than just masturbate, like going out and getting real girl clothes. He had almost nothing that fit him now. If nothing else his boobs really felt like they needed support.

He sighed and his rubbing got more frantic, his hips thrusting against his fingers. He gasped loudly and arched his back, cumming so quickly but still eager for more. When it was all over his hand didn’t move away. Instead he kept rubbing, eager for another.

By his count that orgasm made twenty two so far in just a half a day. He was tired to be sure, but also still horny. He realized he was going to be doing this until exhaustion literally over took him and he passed out with his fingers in his crotch.

There were perils, he realized, to being his own dream girl. He was going to have to learn some serious self control… later.


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