The lady of the house

You see the lady of the house sat in front of a dresser, with her back to you, but with the angle of the mirror you can’t see her face. Its past midday but she’s only dressed in her underwear and stockings, as you slip into the room her hand lazily reaches for a cocktail glass on the top of the dresser. She downs the drink in one go and fills the glass again with more **** from a shaker. She breathes in and out deeply, doing breathing exercises, you stand there not sure what to do, you’re just a simple crook could you really take this life, however it was just temporary, till the cops stopped looking for you. You were faced with something you had never had to deal with before, a moral dilemma, it was at that point you saw that the lady of the house had turned around and seen you. She breathed in to scream and then breathed out, and kept breathing out until she was a pile of skin on the chair. You looked down at your hands like they were covered in blood, you had shot her.

At that moment you panicked, everything felt blurry and less real, you felt yourself move and pick up the skin. You wanted to be sick, but you managed to hold it in, you kept telling yourself you weren’t a murderer and it was only going to be for a short time. You slowly slid your hairy legs in to the woman’s deflated legs, the skin tightened around you and you felt cold air on your legs. You nearly past out as you pull the woman up to your waist and felt your manhood be tightened out of existence. Your sweaty hands let go of the bunched up skin and pushed into the empty limbs of the woman. The skin tightens again, almost like it wants to be worn, you feel a heavy weight on your chest as the breasts filled up, your body felt completely different to the one you had a moment ago. You take a deep breath and pull the face on to your head, you feel the tightness one last and then it’s gone.

The **** hits you like a freight train, the woman’s body had been use to this level of intoxication but you had been in jail for the past five years and your brain was not ready to process that much **** so quickly. You sat down quickly, your mind spinning; you sat there hoping you weren’t sick now because of the ****. You shifted your new plump bum uncomfortably, it felt like you were sitting on something, you looked past your breasts and saw a bit plastic on the chair. Your drunken hand eventually managed to find the plastic and pulled against it, your body responded in a strange way, it felt nice. You pulled again, wow, that felt great, you pulled really hard and it came out of your body, you held up the wet plastic up to your face, it took a few seconds for you to realise it’s a dildo. You had never seen one before, you had heard about them being available on the dark market, you had always thought of it as a bit of a joke but now you’d felt one you weren’t so sure.

Your hand slowly moved on its own taking the dildo with it, you knew what you were going to do but you could not even admit it to yourself. The dildo gently penetrated you knew orifice, stretching you out, your other hand stroked your bra and then you stockings before taking the dive and touching your clit. Your hands quickly found out what felt good and what didn’t as your **** fuelled mind spun in slow circles. You heard yourself make cute gasping noises as you watch yourself in the mirror, as your body built toward at orgasm, you barely notice your guilty for taking this woman’s body melt away. From the wet noises coming from your new cunt you knew you were going to squirt all over the antique chair but you didn’t care. You watch your gorgeous orgasm face in the mirror as you ruin a chair that could pay to feed the whole of your old family for years.

You sit in the wet patch of the chair for a few minutes and enjoy the afterglow of the climax; you didn’t know why you had been so worried in the first place, this was what you'd told your wife you wanted you all along, wealth, health and a great body. You sigh, you wish you could spend more time playing with this body but you had a job to do. You pick up a picture frame on the dresser and look at your current family, all smiling white faces, you smile but your smile is very different to theirs.

(Author: seawolf147)