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part two lol

She stared, horrified, at the tent in the sheets at her waist. There was a heaviness there, an ache that let her know exactly what she’d find if she pulled back the sheet. Instinctively, she knew exactly how to satisfy it too. Her fingers itched to reach down and grip herself, to squeeze and stroke until she’d brought herself to climax.

This was basic male physiology, after all. Nocturnal penile tumescence—or morning wood, as most would probably call it—was common. It was natural. And it would go away if she ignored it.

She closed her eyes, suppressing a groan, hands fisted in the sheets. Her bladder was also uncomfortably full, but she probably couldn’t empty it until the erection was gone, and well…none of this was at all what she’d imagined, if she’d ever taken the time to think about what it might be like to switch bodies with someone. She certainly wouldn’t have anticipated there being such an emphasis on basic bodily functions.

There was a knock on the adjoining door.

She sat up, cheeks flaming, glancing desperately around the room for her clothes. His clothes. Whatever. She’d slept in his boxer briefs, but they were doing little to hide what was going on inside them.

“Hey Cosima?” he called in her voice, tapping at the door again.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice low and rough. She might not ever get used to Malachi’s voice coming from her throat. Or having an erection. Jesus Christ. She rubbed a hand over her chin, wincing at the prick of day old stubble there.

“It, uh, happens every morning,” he said through the door, sounding somewhat apologetic.

Oh God. The burning sensation in her cheeks intensified. And then she scowled. Why was she embarrassed? This was his body. He was the one waking up every morning with a boner, not her.

“You can take care of it, if you want,” he said. “Or ignore it. It’ll go down in a few minutes…or, well…”

“Well, what?” she demanded, her voice coming out more harshly than she’d intended.

“It’s been a few days since I…took care of it,” he said. “So things might be a little more urgent than usual.”

“Jesus.” She squeezed her eyes shut, still refusing to move the sheet resting over her waist.

“You could try thinking about your mother,” he suggested. “That’s saved my ass at the archives more than once.”

“How often do you get erections at work?” she asked, half curious, half horrified.

“Uh, I’m a guy who hasn’t been laid in…well, a while. It happens more often than you might think.”

“Keep talking,” she said, because it seemed to be helping. The pressure in her groin was easing, the ache becoming less intense. Urgent, he’d said, and that was a pretty accurate descriptor for the sensation she was feeling.

“Cosima, you’re hurting my feelings here,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Insinuating that talking to me is turning you off.”

“The sound of my own voice isn’t doing anything for me,” she told him dryly. “Sorry.”

“No, I…I understand,” he said. “I feel the same way. It’s weird, because…”

“Because what?” she asked, perhaps emboldened by the closed door between them, or maybe it was the actual set of balls between her thighs or the massive erection still straining the front of her boxers.

“Because actually, you know…” he drifted off.

“What?” she demanded. If they didn’t say it now, when would they ever? Or maybe that was just the testosterone talking.

“I find you attractive, okay?”

Oh. “So do I,” she blurted. “Find you attractive, that is.”

“I thought so,” he said, sounding smug.

“Anyway,” she said, suddenly eager to change the topic of conversation.

“Anyway,” he repeated.

“Um, I’ll be out in a minute.” She finally pushed back the sheet and stood, relieved that things were mostly back to normal inside her boxers. She went into the bathroom and used the toilet before stepping into a quick shower, because men had a tendency to stink, and since she was one now, she could at least bring a woman’s sense of hygiene to the job.

After her shower, she shaved, finding it not that different on her face than her legs. Then she went into the bedroom, where she looked through Malachi’s duffel bag to find clean clothes. As men went, he was a rather clean one, and she was able to find everything she needed without trouble. She looked down at her naked body, momentarily overcome by curiosity. Or maybe it was just the lingering ache from the erection she hadn’t taken care of for him earlier.

She gripped the cock in her right hand, just wanting to know what it felt like from a man’s perspective. The answer was…her eyes rolled back in her head, and it was all she could do to stifle the moan that had risen in her throat. The cock immediately hardened beneath her fingers, and the urge to keep going was almost overpowering.

No wonder men were always thinking about sex. She’d been one for twelve hours, and she already had a one-track mind. But she wasn’t going to masturbate as Malachi. That was just inappropriate. So she dressed quickly in the jeans and tee she’d pulled from his bag and knocked on their adjoining door.

“You decent over there?” she called.

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding a bit strange, and she hoped he didn’t somehow know what she had been doing in here.

A New Point Of View

I did not make a sideblog to write Spire fan fiction. Absolutely not. Fic underneath. Warning: adult content.

Keep reading

[oopsignorethis]

A New Point Of View

I did not make a sideblog to write Spire fan fiction. Absolutely not. Fic underneath. Warning: adult content.

Malachi stood in the little bathroom, hands on the waistband of his pants, torn between the urge to yank them down before his bladder exploded and an odd sense of embarrassment over what he was going to see when he did. He was in Cosima body, and this wasn’t how he wanted today to happen.

On the contrary, he felt intensely uncomfortable about pulling down her pants, even if it meant relief because, damn, he really did need to pee. He stood there for another minute, staring at himself in the mirror, marvelling at Cosima face looking back at him. This was amazing. It was one of the most incredible things that had happened to him. He was terrified.

It was also awkward.

He was attracted to her, was the thing. She was gorgeous. Curly red hair, freckled face, dark eyes. She had a gap between her front teeth and he felt himself blush a little as he tried to smile. He was embarrassed. He found himself attractive.

Fuck it. He needed to talk this through with her.

Sparing a longing glance at the unused toilet, he went through the bedroom and knocked on the adjoining door. She opened it almost immediately, still dressed exactly as he’d left her.

“Feel better?” she asked with a little smirk that didn’t look right on his face.

“No,” he said. “I didn’t…I can’t… Cosima, I feel weird about seeing you naked.”

Her eyes widened. “I…well…it’s just a body, Malachi.”

“I know, but…”

“Who knows how long we’re going to be stuck like this? We’re going to have to use the bathroom, shower, all kinds of things.” She said it in her most practical tone, but that even with his voice leaving her mouth, it didn’t sound like himself. But he also heard the stiffness in her words. She felt weird about this too.

“Maybe we should just strip,” he suggested.

She quirked an eyebrow. It looked so foreign on his face. “What?”

“I don’t know. Right here. Let’s both just strip and get it over with. I’ll see you. You’ll see me. And then we might not feel so strange.” He flung his arms out, which felt really strange in her body.

“I think you should just go in the bathroom and pee,” she said, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s just piss.”

“Come on, Cosima. You aren’t the least bit weirded out about seeing my body under those clothes?”

That dramatic sigh said she was. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“So let’s just do it, then.” He slipped her black jacket over his shoulders and tossed it on the bed.

She huffed. “Fine.”

“Your turn.” He gestured toward her clothes.

She shuffled her feet, kicking his sneakers toward the bed. This might take all night at this rate, and his bladder didn’t have that much time. He looked down, still somewhat disoriented to see the swell of her breasts there. And well, it was either going to be her shirt or her pants next, so he started with the shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it on the bed. There were her breasts, contained beneath a flesh-toned satin bra.

His arms hung awkwardly at his sides as he waited for her to make the next move. They were nice breasts. Why did they have to be so nice? She kept her eyes averted from him as she removed his T-shirt. Now they were both standing there in their pants, well, and her bra.

He reached down and fumbled with the clasp on her pants. Why were women’s clothes so complicated? What was wrong with a simple button? Just when he thought he might need to ask for help, it sprang free. He pushed down the zipper and stepped out of the black pants, tossing them to the bed. Did he dare look?

Before he’d had a chance to decide, she shucked his jeans, standing there in his black boxer briefs, and at least there wasn’t too much of a bulge in the front, or at least, not any more of a bulge than necessary. This wasn’t turning her on. It wasn’t turning him on either. Probably not.

“Oh just do it already,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He reached behind himself, again fumbling clumsily as he tried to unfasten the bra. He’d never removed a bra before. Cosima probably thought he was such a virgin. Finally, it sprang free, and the bra slid from his shoulders. He tossed it aside, his gaze dropping briefly to the breasts he’d exposed. Her perfect, round breasts, or in this moment…his. He looked away.

“It’s cool, Malachi” she said. “You can look.”

“It feels disrespectful.”

She stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It only feels that way because you are respectful. Trust me. I’ve had guys stare at them worse without being in my body.”

“Oh,” he said, swallowing hard. “Has it been a lot of men?” 

“Even one is too many,” she answered simply. “Look. There’s no way to avoid seeing the bodies we’re trapped in, so just look so we can move on and start figuring out how to get out of this mess.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “About those guys. That’s inappropriate.”

“It’s okay,” she said. That didn’t make it right. He slid the black underwear down his legs, glad they weren’t overtly sexy or anything that would embarrass her. These were simple black cotton, and he tossed them to the bed. She did the same with the boxer briefs, and then they stood facing each other, naked.

But he didn’t want to look at her, because he knew what he looked like naked. Instead, he finally let his gaze drift downward, past those round breasts with their rosy pink nipples, to the neatly trimmed patch of red hair between his thighs. He looked up to find her shamelessly ogling his cock, looking at it as if she perhaps wanted to take it in her hands and see what it felt like.

“Knock yourself out,” he said, gesturing toward it, and then he turned and dashed for the bathroom. He shut the door behind himself, remembering at the last moment that he needed to sit for this.

A minute later—and feeling much better—he washed his hands. He was still naked, and his torso was visible in the mirror. He resisted the juvenile urge to bounce his breasts in the reflection. Instead, reached for the duffel bag he’d dropped outside the bathroom, rummaging around until he came up with a pair of Cosima’s pyjamas. He put them on and went back through the room to the adjoining door, which stood ajar.

He pushed it open to find her on the bed, redressed in the clothes she’d stripped out of for him, tapping at his laptop.

“Cosima, it’s three a.m. I think we should get a few hours of sleep and start fresh in the morning, don’t you?”

She sighed, shutting the laptop and rubbing her eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” “Cosima.”

“Goodnight, Malachi!”

Exhaustion had set in fast now that he was no longer preoccupied with physical discomforts. He had no idea what Cosima’s bedtime ritual was, so he brushed his teeth and fell into bed, hoping her propensity to drop straight to sleep would have stayed with her body.

No such luck. He tossed between the threadbare sheets, unable to get comfortable. As he readjusted the covers over himself, he felt an unfamiliar tingle in his breasts. Wow, Cosima’s nipples were really sensitive. He rubbed the sheet back and forth across his chest, mesmerized by the sensation.

That tingle he’d felt soon spread through his belly, gathering in a warm ache between his thighs, and oh fuck. Nope. He wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t going to touch Cosima, not even if he was her right now. He’d never felt anything like this before, though. He felt…wet. Whoa.

Unable to resist, he arched his hips, pressing himself against the mattress. He wasn’t going to look or to touch or even to get himself off, but he was hopelessly curious by nature, and he just had to know what arousal felt like for a woman.

He grabbed the pillow he’d tossed aside, pressing it between his thighs and moving himself against it. Almost immediately the ache inside him intensified, beginning to throb in time with his pulse. It was more focused than anything he’d felt in his own body, all centered in that one spot that he absolutely wasn’t going to touch.

Reluctantly, he tossed the pillow aside and lay on his back with one arm thrown across his eyes, waiting for the arousal to fade. It took longer than he’d expected, so he distracted himself by imagining how his meeting with his father was going to. They were going to have a field day hiding this body swap business.

Eventually, his eyes started to droop, and he drifted into a restless sleep. He was awakened sometime later by a groan from the adjoining room.