The morning sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains of the cozy Hispanic neighborhood, casting golden streaks across the sidewalk where Jay walked with a slow, deliberate stride. His fingers twitched at his sides, the familiar tingle of his shapeshifting power humming just beneath his skin. He had spent the last few weeks exploring the intoxicating thrill of becoming someone else,someone female and the way it made his body ache in ways he never imagined possible. The memory of his uncle’s thick cock stretching him open as Luna, the way his aunt’s curves had moved beneath him, the way his own voice had turned breathy and needy, it all played in his mind like a filthy, addictive loop. He decided to get going before Luna came back.
He paused in front of a modest but well-kept house, its white stucco walls glowing warmly in the sunlight. The window was slightly ajar, the sheer curtain fluttering in the breeze. Jay leaned in, his breath hitching as his gaze flicked from the sleeping figure of a man, Miguel, to the woman beside him. Camila. She was a vision of curves, her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, her full lips parted slightly as she slept. But this time, Jay didn’t linger on her. His eyes dropped lower, to the tented sheet over Miguel’s groin, the unmistakable outline of his morning wood pressing against the fabric. A shiver ran down Jay’s spine, his own cock twitching in his pants. He wasn’t here to become her. Not this time.
He wanted to be fucked like her.
The thought sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin, his balls tightening. He had never considered himself attracted to men before, but the way his body craved the stretch, the burn, the fullness of being filled—it didn’t matter whose cock it was. All that mattered was the way it made him feel. Like he was melting, like he was being remade, like he was hers, or his, in ways he never thought possible.
Jay watched as Camila stirred, her eyelids fluttering before she sat up with a soft groan. She stretched, her nightgown riding up to reveal the swell of her thighs, the dip of her waist. Then, with a quiet sigh, she slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Miguel. Jay’s pulse quickened as she padded barefoot toward the door, her hips swaying with a natural, hypnotic rhythm. She stepped outside, the screen door clicking shut behind her. Jay didn’t move. He waited, counting the seconds, his breath shallow.
When he was sure she was far enough, he closed his eyes and let go.
The shift began in his chest, his ribs constricting, his pecs softening, swelling into the heavy, round weight of Camila’s breasts. He gasped as his nipples hardened into tight, sensitive buds, the fabric of his shirt suddenly too rough against them. His waist cinched in, his hips flaring outward, his ass rounding into the lush, jiggling curves he had admired through the window. His legs lengthened, his thighs thickening, his calves smoothing into the toned yet soft lines of a woman’s. His cock gone. In its place, a slick, swollen heat between his legs, his pussy lips already damp with anticipation. His face morphed last, his jaw softening, his lips plumping, his eyebrows arching delicately. When he opened his eyes, his vision was slightly blurred, his lashes longer, his eyelids heavier.
He was her.
Jay no, Camila let out a shuddering breath, his hands instinctively cupping his breasts, squeezing them through the thin fabric of his shirt. Oh God, he thought, his voice echoing in his mind, I feel so… full. His fingers trailed down his stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of his pants, finding the slick, swollen folds of his pussy. He bit his lip as he circled his clit, his hips jerking forward. Fuck, he whimpered, his voice breathy and unfamiliar. I need this. I need him.
He forced himself to stop, his fingers trembling. He couldn’t waste time. Not when Miguel was waiting.
The key was exactly where Camila had left it, tucked beneath the doormat, cool and smooth against his new fingertips. He slipped it into the lock, turning it silently, his heart pounding in his chest. The house was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant chirp of birds outside. He tiptoed inside, his bare feet padding silently against the tile floor.
Miguel was still asleep, sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. The sheet had slipped down, revealing the thick, veiny length of his cock, already half-hard in his sleep. Jay’s mouth watered. He had seen cocks this a hundred times before, but now, as Camila, the sight of Miguel made his knees weak.
He moved to the wardrobe, his fingers brushing against the silky fabrics of Camila’s clothes. He needed something slutty. Something that would make Miguel lose his mind the second he opened his eyes. His fingers closed around a black lace babydoll, the fabric so sheer it was almost see-through. He stripped quickly, his clothes pooling at his feet, and stepped into the delicate garment. The straps dug into his shoulders, the cups barely containing his heavy breasts, his nipples already hard and aching. He turned to the full-length mirror, his breath catching.
God, he looked damn beautiful.
His dark hair cascaded down his back in loose waves, his lips were parted, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust. He ran his hands over his body, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples through the lace. A moan escaped his lips, his pussy clenching with need. He couldn’t wait anymore.
He crawled onto the bed, his movements slow, deliberate. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and Miguel stirred, his arm sliding away from his face. His eyes fluttered open, and for a second, he just stared at her, his gaze darkening as it raked over her body.
“Shit,” he groaned, his voice rough with sleep. “Camila…”
Jay didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for the waistband of Miguel's boxers, his fingers hooking into the fabric. He pulled them down, freeing his cock. It sprang up, thick and heavy, the head already glistening with pre-cum. Jay’s breath hitched. He had felt a cock inside him before as Luna but this was different. This was his temporary husband’s cock, and he was going to take every inch of it.
He wrapped his fingers around the base, stroking him slowly, his thumb swiping over the slick tip. Miguel groaned, his hips jerking upward.
“Fuck, baby,” he gasped. “What the hell are you, fuck—”
Jay didn’t let him finish. He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lap at the pre-cum beading at his slit. The taste of him, salty, musky, male, sent a jolt of heat straight to Jay's core. He moaned, the sound vibrating against his cock as he took him into her mouth.
“Oh god!” Miguel hissed, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Suck that Cock you slut. Just like that fuck—”
Jay hollowed his cheeks, taking him deeper, his lips stretching around his girth. Jay bobbed his head, his tongue swirling around the underside of his cock, his free hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently. Miguel’s breath came in ragged gasps, his hips thrusting up to meet his wife's mouth.
“ enough,” he growled suddenly, his voice rough. “I want that pussy. Now.”
Before Jay could react, Miguel sat up, his hands gripping Jay's waist. With a strength that made him gasp, he flipped his wife onto her back, pinning her beneath him. The babydoll rode up, exposing her bare pussy, already slick and swollen with need.
“You got wet by just sucking me” he murmured, his fingers trailing through her folds. “Always so wet for me, my love.”
Jay whimpered, his back arching as Miguel's fingers circled his clit. “Please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Fill me, Miguel. Now. I need you inside me.”
But he didn’t give it to me. Not yet. Instead, he kissed his way down my body, his lips trailing fire over my stomach, my hips, the insides of my thighs. When his breath ghosted over my pussy, I whimpered, my fingers tangling in the sheets.
“Please,” I begged, my voice trembling.
He chuckled, dark and promising. “Since you asked so nicely.”
The first lick was slow, deliberate, his tongue flat against my folds, tasting me like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever had. I cried out, my hips jerking off the bed, but he held me down, his hands gripping my thighs.
“Stay still,” he ordered, his voice muffled against my pussy. “Let me worship you.”
And worship me he did. His tongue was magic licking, sucking, teasing my clit until I was a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. He slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right, and I screamed, my back arching off the bed.
“Miguel, fuck—!”
“That’s it,” he groaned, his fingers pumping in and out of me, his tongue never letting up. “Come for me, mami. Let me taste you.”
I didn’t have a choice. The orgasm hit me like a freight train, my pussy clenching around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. I was still trembling when he finally pulled back, his lips glistening with my arousal.
“Fucking perfect,” he murmured, crawling up my body. “Now I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”
