I turn my head back, still holding it up, and find Kaja sitting back on her heels, smiling at me invitingly - she thinks I am What's-his-name. I can barely keep from giggling. I sit up, climb to my knees, stare down at my stolen body.
Oh, it's beautiful. The cock juts out from my body and defies gravity, so hard and hot: the moisture from Kaja's mouth is evaporating in the warm, sex-drenched room and I can feel it all over this impossibly large new clit. The flesh of the scrotum tightens and the balls feel tight and heavy and there is nothing in this world that I want but to pump and pump and relieve this awesome pressure in spurting, in coming.
I look up at Kaja and my smile twists What's-his-name's face in unaccustomed ways.
"Ready, lady?" I rasp happily - bigger lungs, bigger throat, bigger mouth, but it sounds like me - and Kaja does a magnificent naked double-take. I glance over at my own body lying there asleep, and she follows my gaze, then looks back at me with wonder and hilarity fighting for control.
I break down into laughter and so does she, almost simultaneously. It's fantastic, ludicrous - a delicious opportunity, and I don't know where to begin . . . she leans forward to stare into his face for signs of me inside. I don't know what she sees. Do my expressions translate accurately in this new face? I'll ask her . . . later. I reach out with a big hand, peripherally admiring the finely haired, muscular forearm with the lovely strong veins standing out - I've always admired that in men - and cup Kaja's chin, gently tilting her head up and I lean in and kiss her mouth, a harder kiss than I would give her with my own lips, but as gentle as possible. I am suddenly afraid of the strength crouching in this body, that it will get away from me, unaccustomed to it as I am, that I will hurt her.
To cover my concerns, maybe to buy a little time, and certainly to ensure her readiness, I settle Kaja onto her back and dip my head to breathe warmth over her sex, and tentatively dart What's-his-name's tongue inside. A flood of sweet-salt juices greets my inquiry: she is magnificently wet, already was. The rush of moisture was only waiting for an invitation, and now, freed, bathes her entire beautiful, small, glistening pink pussy, and an ache of longing grips this cock, my cock, for now at least, and involuntarily I groan.
"C'mon, lady," she says, an edge of a giggle twining around the near-moaning quality in her voice, and she spreads her legs wider as if she can't help it. I look up, not certain of the meaning.
There is humor in her face, but there is a soft flush of desire, and she crooks her finger at me, beckoning me up.
"Come on . . ."
All the encouragement I need. But there is more. As I crawl closer, and hesitate, she reaches out with her slim, small hand and carefully grips my cock, her fingers firm but yielding - in the back of my mind I recognize what she is doing, I could never have been on the receiving end of it before, she is gauging the firmness and guiding its position, her legs are so wide, her hips angled up to offer a direct access inside. Her knees are bent, her little feet in the air, wet pink pussy with its pouting lips a hungry, open target.
I know how she feels, from long experience: spread apart and open and waiting, waiting, to be filled, stuffed full - but this side is so new, I must take just another moment of the wanting, to savor it, the cock a thick, fleshy extension of the spine, fine strong muscles in the back and legs at the ready, and the power, I will admit it, the power of kneeling there poised over this beautiful woman waiting for me to fuck her, to drive us both to pleasure . . .
I would not care to speculate whether it is mercy or pure selfish lust that finally prompt me to motion. It doesn't matter. Both cross my mind in that moment, so both it must be. I pull back slightly as I settle my thighs up against the back of Kaja's suspended ones, and she releases my cock and reaches both hands down to her pussy, spreading the lips even wider, eyes glittering at me from near-closed lids.
I take hold of my cock then, and guide the bulbous, ridged tip to the mouth of her slit, and then I thrust in.
I cry out in pleasure and startlement at the incredible tightness of her, hot and throbbing and encasing my cock in muscular softness, and she cries out at the hard, hard bigness filling her, stretching her open, and for a moment we regard each other, me buried to the hilt in her, both of us reminding ourselves what is happening here.
Her eyes are wide, nearly glassy. She pants, "It's really you?"
I lean forward, resting on my hands over her. "In the fifth grade, once," I grin down at her, throbbing inside her, "I told you a dirty joke and you wouldn't talk to me for two whole days."
"Oh, come on," she scoffs, "it was only one dayyyahhhhh--!" as I pull back, back through the slick embrace of her cunt, and slam forward again, and her eyes slide shut and her mouth open. I am even a little deeper in this time than before, if such a thing is possible, though What's-his-name's cock is just the right length for Kaja, at its deepest penetration still reaching just shy of her cervix. I cannot hurt her. The idea is almost more exciting than that of being able to truly fuck her: I can give free rein to this demanding appendage and not hurt her and not have to worry about hurting her.
With the shred of self-possession I have left I say, "You have been taking your pill?"
She opens her eyes partially, smiles crookedly, her face flushed. "Nice lady. Yes. I've been very good."
"Good," I growl, still holding still, poised over her, surrounded and aching to move. "I want to come inside you. I wouldn't know when to pull out if I had to and I'm not sure I could. Oh, you feel so good, Kaja . . ."
"Hush up and fuck me," she whispers, and I obey her.