Please tell me

Ricky moaned on the kitchen counter as he fingered his wet pussy. He loved how sensitive his whole body felt, how his breasts swayed and his hair moved, even how the tips of his fingers could pleasure his little nub. He loved how lovely he smelled.

But he had to be careful not to climax, for the spell was very clear on this point: it would trap him in his wife’s body, and she in his. He’d been the one to request this one-time sensual experience but he did not wish to be stuck wet and moaning as his own wife for the rest of his life.

Just then he heard a flapping and grunting sound behind him and he turned around and gasped: “Wait Sherry, please don’t do that! Oh god, please don’t come! Please tell me you won’t do that…oh no, oh no oh no, don’t do it!” She kept jerking and blew her load all over the kitchen with a grin on her face, and then she walked over to the freezer and grabbed an ice cream cone. Without even touching him, she’d fucked him over.

“That was nice, and I’m looking forward to this experience twice a day from now on, preferably with your mouth around it but I’ll be on the lookout for others to help carry the load. Now put on your skirt and stop crying, dammit. I’ll be the man that you never were.” Sherry relished the crestfallen look on Ricky’s face and felt herself growing hard again as she imagined all the pleasures that were now due to her from her faithful wife.


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