Team Effort

The solid ‘thump’ of your office door closing abruptly breaks you from the growing orgasmic bliss coursing through your body. You hear the light retreating sounds of Sarah’s taunting laughter as she walks away outside.

"Goddammit Sarah, what the FUCK do you want from me?" you attempt to wail through ragged breaths as waves of pleasure continue to **** your slickening womanhood.

"Saaaaaaaraaaaaah......”, you instead find your traitorous voice squealing. “I NEED you to make me FEEL...” you husk towards the closed office door Sarah had exited just moments before. Your passionate cries are accompanied by panting breaths through glossy parted lips and tears of frustration gathering at the corners of your wild red-tinted eyes. Still precariously propped on arms quivering at the elbows, you find yourself unable to halt the actions of your renegade body. You continue lewdly grinding the sopping skirt material shielding your cunt along the plush carpeted office floor in **** need of stimulation.

“Like a WOMAN...!” you breathe, abruptly rising from hunched position to arch your back as your slender red nails maul your swollen tits through the confines of your white silk blouse. You suddenly stiffen as every nerve in your body explodes in simultaneous choreographed pleasure. Wide blue eyes turn white as they roll towards the heavens above, with your pillowy lips frozen in an erotic ‘O’ to voice a wordless orgasmic howl.

For several seconds your body remains rigid, a chiseled statue serving as a monument to commemorate the most exhilarating moment of your newly female life. The growing wet patch slowly spreading along the expensive material of your pinstripe business skirt serve as the only sign of the orgasmic experience.

You feel the strained tendons of every muscle in your body suddenly loosen as the last wave of pleasure ebbs from your abused pussy. You can do nothing as your trembling body sways forward. Over-fatigued muscles suddenly relax from sexual stimulation, causing your slumping body to settle ungracefully to rest on your pillowy breasts with tight skirted arse slightly raised above and pointed toe heeled feet sprawled behind in a most unladylike fashion.

Eyes closed, you slowly draw languid breaths through a wide, sated smile as a thin trail of drool leaks from parted lips to pool along with the cocktail of love juices accumulating on the carpeted floor. You have no sense of how long you're like this before several gentle taps at the door cause your eyes to flutter, then narrow to focus on the office door from your horizontal position.

“Miss Brown, are we ready?”A soft feminine voice comes muffled through the solid wood door, further distorted from the pounding of blood echoing in your ears.

“That voice...” you croak through parched throat as your post-sex addled mind struggles to regain functionality. "...sounds familiar?” you ask yourself while attempting to raise from the carpeted floor on still-wobbling arms.

“It’s time for our presentation...” the voice continues, as you notice the brass knob begin to turn.

Your still-weak arms quiver, then give way, noodling beneath the weight of your body to again leave you sprawled on the floor below.

“And we don’t want to be late- OH DEAR!”, you hear a feminine gasp as the door finally swings open.

Your predicament only allows for a glimpse of glossy red heeled feet from your horizontal position, further obscured through the disheveled locks of silken brunette tresses fanned about your face.

“Miss Brown...” the strangely familiar woman sighs. Pursing lush red-painted lips she bends on sculpted legs to slightly hover above your huddled body.

“Do we REALLY have time for this?” she tuts, brushing golden banged strands of stylish slanted bob-haired locks behind her right ear before resting her palms on her slender waist to assume an accusatory stance. The woman gently reaches towards you to brush the hair from your eyes. She takes the time to raise your chin to affectionately wipe off some accumulated drool from your creased lips before guiding you to a kneeling position.

“This touch...” your mind races, frantically searching your memory. “I've felt it... before?” you internally muse, drawing your eyes along her white nylon-clad leg, up to the form-fitting white silk pencil skirt resting slightly above knee level.

“Just look at you...” she playfully scolds, drawing her saliva laced red-lacquered nail to waiting lips to lick the drool soiled finger clean.

“Come now,” the vision in white continues, raising you to shaking knees. “Let’s get you ready.” She begins to smooth the creases from your blouse and skirt.

Still recovering from your weakened state, your knees buckle and your body lurches forward. On instinct, you raise your hands to brace yourself, but instead find them grasping two melon-sized globes encased in the smooth red satin of your partners tie neck blouse.

“Oh MY!” the woman responds playfully, raising her hands to brace your elbows and wrap you in a warm embrace. Both sets of nipples respond in turn as her red satin brushes your white silk accompanied by an erotic ‘swish’ of fabric.

“Looks like kitten’s getting a little frisky...” she teases, followed by a slight moan of hot breath in your right ear. You suddenly shiver as you feel her tongue quickly lash your outer ear, followed by the warm wet sensation of her mouth engulfing the pearl studded lobe.

“But right now,” she hisses, releasing your lobe with an audible ‘pop’ before dragging her tongue the length of your elegant neck. “Business, before PLEASURE...” she whispers, smiling eyes looking deeply into your own.

Your body shivers in response as you once again feel a growing arousal dampening in your nether-regions. You find your hands moving upward, clinging desperately to your mysterious companion’s satin clad shoulders to finally gaze upon familiar emerald eyes.

“Farrah...?” you groan, a lump quickly forming in the pit of your belly as your muddled mind finally makes the connection. “Why in the HELL is my girlfriend from university here?!” you internally scream, mouth agape and staring into the same eyes you had countless times before. ...As a man.

“Of course, kitten,” she coos, removing her hands from your now-stable body to straighten the collar and re-tie the knot on your blouse. Now that you’re face to face with this impossible clone of your girlfriend, you begin to notice some oddities only someone intimately familiar with her would.

The normally tender and gentle emerald eyes that you had immediately fallen for when you both first met seemed unfocused and distant, as if forcibly acting a scripted performance but doggedly struggling to resist. And the kind smiling lips you so fondly remembered appeared plastered on her pretty face, almost **** in contrast to her otherwise genuine appearance.

This sexed up Farrah looked like she just walked off the pages of a high fashion glossy magazine. Her normal selection of casual wear would be startlingly out of place on the vision of white silk and red satin poised before you. The red satin blouse material molded to her lithe and sensual body emphasized sexuality from the most subtle of womanly curves to the swell of her B-cup chest. And that ass. What was once her least flattering feature was now two glorious globes of bubbled flesh enticingly encased in the tight white silk of a knee-length pencil skirt. Complete with well styled hair, artfully applied make up, and designer matching high heeled pumps, she was the living, breathing example of your most idealized vision of your perfect woman.

Only now you were trapped in an equally (if not more) attractive body.

Was this Sarah’s game? To gift you the thing you desired most, but leave you unable to properly appreciate? And how did she even know you had a girlfriend? You NEVER shared your romantic pursuits with Sarah, knowing her history of vindictive behavior if she felt you wronged her. You had learned early on and first hand that nothing was off-limits en-route to Sarah’s ultimate goal of ****.

“Kitten...?” Farrah suddenly asks, tearing you from your internal musings. “Is everything alright...?”The faux worry in her voice again conflicts with the vacant look in her eyes.

“How did you get here? Where did you come from? WHERE ARE WE?!” You attempt scream at the top of your lungs, not thinking. You're **** for answers and you frantically reach forward to shake her shoulder in the hopes of waking her from whatever stupor was fogging her brain.

“Yes dear...” you find yourself purring instead, coyly licking your plush red lips. You reach forward and gather her well manicured hands in you own and bring them to your soft lips for a tender kiss. “Now that YOU’RE here,” you find yourself continuing, lowering your clasped hands to rest on the damp patch outlining the moistening crotch of your pinstripe suit skirt.

“Wonderful, my lovely pet,” she responds, lifting your hands to repeat the ritual with her own kiss upon the back of your wrists, then taking a moment to draw a deep inhale of the wet arousal tainting your hands.

“Now, let’s get you ready for our meeting,” she smiles, kissing you softly on your forehead before lowering to plant a quick peck and slow tongue drag along your bottom lip. With peppy smile suddenly blooming to grace your lips, you allow Farrah to lead you towards a large ornate wooden wardrobe you had never noticed before.