Side Effects

Taylor slowly recovered and shakily lifted himself up from his face down position across the ottoman. The sound of deep male snoring from the bedroom attracted his attention. Unconsciously smoothing down his short little skirt, Taylor sexily strutted his way to the bedroom door, still muddled and oblivious to his clothing change. Sprawled across most of the bed was a large muscular man, ‘His wife,’ he reminded himself.

“What have I gotten myself into,” Taylor muttered aloud, as he minced and swished his way toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning up … again. His bouncing jiggly breasts drew his attention downward. “What the hell,” he squeaked shrilly! Only now did Taylor realize what he was wearing. “God damn it Casey,” Taylor half whispered in frustration, but more immediate needs dominated.

Taylor wriggled and tugged out of the French Maid outfit and sat down to pee. Finishing, he crossed one ankle across the other knee and unbuckled the ridiculous shoe that Casey had somehow forced upon him. Repeating the process with the other shoe, Taylor stood up then stepped down out of the stupid shoes. The height loss was striking, particularly when he realized that without the shoes, he would not be able to simply sit on the comfort height toilet. He’d have to lever himself up, and his feet would dangle above the floor.

Exasperated, Taylor stepped into the shower and looked up at the shower head that was now well out of his reach. Instead of re‑aiming the shower to wait for hot water, Taylor had to cram himself into the corner under the shower head while wrestling the too high water control for temperature.

Fortunately the shower head hadn’t been left on pulse or needle. “Damn! This is nice,” Taylor said aloud, as he slowly soaped and caressed his slippery breasts and turgid nipples.

Nervous and excited, Taylor drifted his fingers down toward his crotch. Annoyingly, his damned boobs conspired to prevent him from seeing what he was doing. His upper arms compressed his breasts higher and farther out. Bending forward to attempt to see himself was met with dangling mounds of flesh that could only be seen past if he used both hands to hold his breasts spread, precluding a free hand to explore while watching. Giving up on watching, Taylor explored his new anatomy by feel, and it was wonderful … and frustrating. He could easily rev himself up, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t put himself over.

Taylor tried visualizing old reliable fantasies of dominating and fucking his wife Casey mercilessly. He visualized spreading his wife’s legs while reveling in her helpless look of fear as he moved in. Suddenly his fantasy jumped the shark. He was the one lying on the bed looking up as his legs were slowly and inexorably forced wide. His heart began pounding as he imagined trying to break free, but his wife easily overpowered him and grinned down as she taunted him with her huge erection, making it clear what she was going to do to him. The more he helplessly struggled against his indomitable wife, the more she grinned and sniggered as she slowly forced herself into him, stretching his tight little twat wider and wider before plunging powerfully into him. Taylor fingered himself faster and faster to the fantasy that had taken on a life of its own. A crescendo of orgasm had him gasping and leaning against the shower wall to keep from collapsing.

“What the fuck was that!” Taylor chastised himself when he could think again.