Shifting the Sci-Fi Guy

[11]

Connor’s eyes widened, as though he didn’t expect me to say that. That somehow excited me more than him being inside me. Well, maybe not, but I had a lot to enjoy.

I had plenty of fanciful things in my head when it came to sex. None of them were quite like what I was feeling. Distilling every sensation mystified me. The warmth was both transporting and twisting. Tingling radiated, pulled, and pressed with sharp but softened contradictory edges. Shivering followed, despite the heat, with the sensation of being filled from the bottom of me to the top. Those were just the clearest impressions I could catch with my working, stray brain cells. Words felt ever insubstantial.

The whole thing was wildly romantic but also silly. What we were doing earlier had a multitude of comical biological reactions, with popping and squishing and things you never imagined your body would do. And none of that quieted down here. The wave of excitement and the spiraling swirl of sensations also included awkward discomfort and loathsome aches.

To translate it, I could simply use the straightforward language of slipping an oversized thumb inside your mouth and sucking hard, but that simultaneously felt like an effort to describe the sky by poking holes in a black scrap of paper. My clitoris, despite all the changes, responded strikingly similar to what I was used to. Like switching around adapters for a body, but still feeding into the same point of reference. Was this better than what we did earlier? It felt more complete. Before, it seemed like a hollow bridge joined, pressing, pulling, and shifting. A certain special beauty also accompanied it though.

I was missing out on squeezing Riona's chest too. Connor was in charge, and I was happy to let him lead, but I also felt glad that my first time wasn’t this. Dipping into those waters with a few steps toward this goal was better than simply plunging headfirst into the waves.

So many suggestions of emotion crossed Connor‘s face as we settled into restrained but still-exuberant thrusts and embraces. He couldn’t quite tickle every flaming itch of feeling, but we were each still learning our intimate contours. The fortunate thing was that we could flip this on its head and trade sides in a moment, so the language and the location of so many imperceptible signs were easy to share between ourselves.

It seemed like such a shame that everyone couldn’t have sex like this. To feel, to trade, and to integrate. I wanted to complete this before Riona got her turn, but there were so many notes to share. My one big complaint was that the girls needed to calm their tits down. They weren’t nearly as heavy and uncomfortable as I was expecting them to be during sex. Connor was diligently attentive at teasing them and making all that feel good, but I still had issues.

Connor’s presence… such a thoughtful way to express his hard cock… pressing inside me felt both amazing and awkward with the stretch, the filling, and the pressing comfort. When Riona used her lips and tongue before, that sensation had no comparison. Pure time dilation. And reciprocating was fun as well, and a delight to see my lover squirm. Now, it was time to give in and ride.

The shades of awkwardness swiftly fell aside as we whispered love and lust to one another. Random giggling replaced all the complicated notions I could’ve constructed to encapsulate what I was feeling. Minutes later, I knew none of this was going to be inside my head anymore and only the sharpest, sweetest sensations would remain, and even all this felt like a vague reconstruction of a rainbow explosion with qualities and depths I couldn’t possibly piece together on my own.

Our embrace felt so long and yet so desperately short, as I could feel him stretching toward the finish line. Immense disappointment gripped me as he receded and slipped out. Before I could scold him or cry, he panted and spasmed against my belly with surprising distance. Some of it got as far as my arms, so I obviously had to try it. But what I tasted was complicated.

I wanted to be so cool, like when she cleaned me up after I was done and acted as if she were insatiable. A certain gag reflex throttled me before I could present that visage. Everything about the human body has a definite gross taboo, but the emphasis of love strives to press that down and reiterate how sexy things can and should be. But you’re basically swallowing different kinds of uncomfortable snot with vague translations of flavor made by the human body. At least I resisted the urge to upchuck.

And I had many questions as we rested against one another, and Connor dribbled a last few times. I wanted to be mad that he hadn’t finished inside me, even though I understood why. Just accepting his proposal didn’t change the fact that what we were doing had complicated consequences. The notion of an ovulation cycle still went way over my head. Holding his warmth against me as we wrapped each other in what blankets were nearby and cooled down still carried frantic echoes of kissing and cuddling.

Now, it fucking hurt. Even though the radiant afterglow was doing its best to tell me that it wasn’t that bad. Tits definitely ached as though they were going to have a bruise later. This couldn’t be how it felt every single time. Were we doing something wrong? Actually having a shower seemed like a decent idea, but I first asked Connor if he wanted to switch places and feel what I felt. His wide eyes told me enough that just going through this was desperately exhausting. But curiosity traced his lovely eyes at this notion. He was thinking about it. It was fun to see him so far off his usual, frantic pace. At the same time, that reaction made me feel wary. If I was exceeding his level of impetuousness, then perhaps that was a sign to slow down. I was so gosh darn sweaty. Funny that we never even used a single condom despite having so many.

Our excuse about taking a quick shower together was sure to be straining credulity. I hadn’t really monitored our noise level, but Kuni and Simon weren’t dumb, and I fully expected they understood from our body language. Connor squeezed my hand.

“Do you really want to get married?” Connor’s eyes were wide and deeply curious. Putting the question directly to me should have left it to my common nature to reconsider and reflect on so many different points, but I didn’t need to. My answer was a fervent nod.

“Yes. Without doubt. Without question. Forever and for always. And in sickness and in health, and whatever vows you think would be fun. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I wanna share as many moments like this as possible, no matter how our flesh is composed and combined. I want our souls to curl up close and always feel each other’s warmth. Is that okay?”

I saw tears pooling in Connor‘s eyes and worried for a frantic moment that I said something wrong. Joyfully, he nodded and smiled, and I felt tears of my own welling up. Then, we flipped the switch.

For half a moment, I quietly wondered if maybe some trace of semen made its way inside me and was already knitting the foundation of new life. Perhaps my Zach form would forever after be locked away from me and I’d be Trisha forever. But the switch worked exactly as it had before. What lingering arousal I felt within surged forth, preparing itself for Riona. She translated all of my hungry enthusiasm in our swapped places. We again forgot about the prophylactics.

It was disconcerting to go from recipient to sender, or whatever analogies made sense. I both couldn’t imagine what Rihanna was going through and yet I intimately understood every inch of feeling spreading across her features. Getting deep was difficult. Not because I wasn’t big enough as a man, but more because I didn’t want to push so deep that I lost control. Once we settled into a comfortable rhythm, I sought so many different sources of joy from Riona.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I probed the right itches to scratch and comforted her twirling tits. Everything about sex seemed so patently ridiculous if you ever try to make sense of it. Being the man had some fun qualities, but the other way excited an incomparable firestorm. It just wasn’t fair to match one against the other. The clear delirium on Riona‘s face told me she was experiencing a comparable realization.

The biggest problem was that everything as Trisha had already lit my entire body on fire, and I had much less of a grip on the edge to hold out for Riona. That led to a pause, where I just barely managed to slide one of the condoms on before Riona was all over me again. More than anything on this side of our dance, I felt so happy to be giving her pleasures that I intimately understood and desperately wanted her to feel the full tableau of.

It took a lot of mental effort, but I held on to squeeze her through as many thresholds as possible for as long as possible. I tingled with pride when she had to squeeze her mouth shut to resist the urge to scream. When we were done, and I had an uncomfortably bloated condom to pull back, we looked into each other‘s eyes with a blessed understanding and calm warmth that failed to be confined by simple things such as words to describe it.

This physical translation of love felt both insubstantial and yet blissfully appropriate. It wasn’t just one time through or a single motion or coupling, but the complicated sharing of the entire day together, from this time alone, to our walk, to talking about the silliest things while eating, to everything I looked forward to from this point onward. Love, the best four-letter word.

Now we desperately needed a shower. Washing out the condom actually seemed like the best idea before finding an appropriate can to place it at the bottom of. For our shower, I returned to Trisha and continued the sentiment. We were not so much changed, despite every aspect of our physical selves. The warm water was blissful on my contorted and tired body. It was unfortunate that the best of it emerged so sparingly. Everyone else in the building was probably also using their showers to explore. We did our best not to linger and burn through the best, warm water, but we also couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

Exhaustion gave way to a renewed wind and so many precious possibilities. We had to quit eventually. It made sense how some couples could spend all day in the embrace of one another. I felt so hungry for the presence of my love, but we dried off, got dressed, and ambled out of the restroom. We quickly found the switch a subtle corner to be concealed. Kuni and Simon were still locked away in their room.

We opted not to peek, but Riona made the playful assumption that the two of them were also sharing in private time. I couldn’t imagine it. Well, I suppose that I could imagine it. I just couldn’t… With the two of them. And I didn’t want to assume, but Riona giggled the whole time. She wanted to play some Marvin Gaye through the speakers, but I talked her out of it. That would’ve been a little too much.

Instead, we popped in the movie Galaxy Quest, and cuddled up together on the couch with some sodas from the fridge, and just did nothing together for a good long while but laugh and quip. The restoration of our bras seemed like a daunting endeavor until I found one I could just slip on like an undershirt. It felt so lazy but incredibly comfortable. Riona found one of her own to wear, and otherwise we had on loose pants and even looser tops.

We took a long time to address the biggest issue: Our encounter with the glasses girl wielding a flashlight. It genuinely seemed like she had done something to us. Memory changes. Did it stop with that though? Was our need to be close and intimate organic or some sort of fervor she impressed upon us? Not as though we needed to be forced, but the timing felt suspicious.

The rest of the evening was quiet, with just faint signs of what our roommates might be doing behind closed doors. No further craziness occupied the dorm, and the broom never came out again. I anticipated that one of our parents was sure to call, but our phones remained silent. Not that we were prevented from taking the first step in sending text messages.

I even took a while to compose a draft of what I might say. It would have to thread the needle because we had no idea how our families perceived any of this. By the time we started a second movie, a less popular sci-fi flick that I was actually looking forward to checking out, I felt like a deflated balloon who wouldn't have anything to say to my mom and dad, if they had called. Connor let me snooze for a good while before we both resolved that we needed to rest properly.

What happened after that slipped my mind. I had some thoughts about the general-purpose bra compared to free-dangling my giant H-cups, but the presence was pillowy enough that I felt no fear that my mega milkers were going to smother me. Some weird, stray thoughts orbited around my head like that. It felt more like the kind of thing that Anthony from the game might quip about offhand. I hoped he was all right.

Curling up with some more cozy and playful fun crossed my thoughts, but I found myself slumping against Connor’s shoulder before we found comfortable positions. I thoroughly imagined that dreams of the most surreal or unexpected quality would saturate my unconscious. All the questions and uncertainties of a complete switch of sex had to be dumped back there into an overflowing pile of thoughts to reconcile. While there was a backlog of stuff to think about, my brain opted not to touch any of those things and instead provided a random perception.

I dreamed, like in a haze, about a massive fishbowl dangling in the cosmos. No further explanation or context followed to make more of that.

The morning brought a striking chill to the air, which made me briefly fret about whether the furnace switch had been set. All the electrical stuff was functioning properly though. Bringing a blanket around helped. Fall was starting to sink deeper into everything, and soon brisk days would call for even more changes. The tangled perception of a new body and an altered life lingered with all my expectations. A subtle sense of being someone else didn’t submerge while sleeping. The fishbowl in space still included the ticklish void between my legs and the weight atop my chest. My body couldn’t forget itself even in the farthest reaches of dreamland.

“Good morning, cutie…” Riona emerged through the doorway carrying orange juice and coffee in her hands, along with plates of toast and yogurt. A typical morning included a little more egg and sausage, but I appreciated the milder food sentiment. The promise of an omelet with onions did require the planning of a trip to the supermarket for the necessary materials. I sipped softly as Connor touched upon the inevitability of what classes we’d have to deal with today.

She set her food and drink down before mentioning, “And we can go to the courthouse, assuming we can find a set of witnesses.”

I smirked with a whirl of fluttering joys and quiet uncertainties. We couldn’t just get married, despite the proposal and my horny acceptance of it. At the same time, I was eager to play Connor’s game and just let it all be. Why not get married?

I looked over to respond with my best silliness when I realized she wasn’t moving. Connor stood there like a strange, posed human-size statue collectible. I scrambled out of the sheets and rushed to her side. Despite my best efforts to embrace her, my hands passed through her body as though she were a holographic projection instead of the real thing. I barely restrained screaming as I begged her plaintively with frantic words.

Moments later, she winked out of sight.