BBC4U

Smirking, I opened a message from a guy who was calling himself BBC4U. This wasn't even a fucking dating app. How **** did people have to be?

BBC4U: Hey babe, how you doing?

Me: Been a little bit of a stressful day, but I'm hoping it's turning around now

BBC4U: Think it might be. What you look like, babe?

This would be a good test. I typed in my message, hesitating before sending it. No changes occurred as I typed, so that was promising. Taking a breath, I sent it off.

Me: I have shoulder length red hair (only one in my fam!) and green eyes. Pale skin, DD cup tits and an ass to match.

I felt the changes sweep over me again. I lifted my hair and looked at it, noting the new color. Then I hefted the weight of my new tits with a grimace. Well, that confirmed that...

BBC4U: A pic is worth more than words. You know you wanna send me some stuff

"Sure I do..." I mumbled, finger hovering over the menu button so I could close the app. I hesitated, though. Would it really be that bad to send this guy a picture? I had just sculpted a pretty rocking body. What could it hurt to show it off a little?

I took a pic that was only from the neck down, then sent it off.

BBC4U: And the face? I bet you have DSLs that'd look great around my cock.

I took another careful selfie, bent over with my lips and cleavage on display. I sent it off with a message.

Me: I think so, but you be the judge.

As soon as I sent it, I could see the pic change. My lips plumped up, becoming fuller and more alluring.

BBC4U: Damn!

He sent another message. A picture of his dick straining his boxers.

BBC4U: You a slut for black cock? You want this?

Me: Yes!

I could feel my mind changing a bit, my thoughts and desires. I did want his dick.

He sent me another address, a place to meet him. I sent one message back.

Me: I'll be there.