The Roomate by Vicki Mock
“It has been years, Annette,” she said, “how did you ever find me?” “Well, Maggie, it wasn’t difficult–we’re old room mates, remember–I know you better than anyone.” They laugh and reminisce about their college days when both were young and free. “ I heard you got divorced,” said Annette, “sorry to hear about it.” “No problem, it’s all right now,” said Maggie. “You see, we just couldn’t seem to make it work somehow. John was a sweet guy, but there were some issues–basically we changed and grew apart.” They talk through the afternoon, and after dinner, Maggie offers her guest room to Annette for the night.
Later that evening, Annette comes into her friend’s bedroom, her soft, very large breasts showing above the “v” of her black negligee. Maggie is on her side reading a novel. Annette climbs onto the bed offering Maggie a back rub, and although a bit uncomfortable, Maggie accepts. Annette’s hands move from Maggie’s neck and shoulders to her arms, and then gradually to her breasts. Maggie stiffens, with a sharp, quick inhalation. Annette leans forward and softly kisses Maggie’s neck and ear. Maggie is frozen in shock. Annette turns her around and kisses her full on the mouth, tongue going deep, firmly gripping her friend as Maggie tries to squirm out of the kiss. Annette falls upon her, her weight and strength overpowering the smaller woman. Annette’s passion intensifies as her friend’s squirms, cries and pleas are muffled by her kiss. Maggie’s’s eyes open wide with shock, uttering a muffled shriek as she feels a rigid penis enter her. Annette groans with pleasure, tongue reaching as deep as the probing member at her crotch. Maggie tries frantically to escape but her wrists are held firmly down, pelvis impaled by the engorged penis.
Annette disengages the kiss and asks her friend in a whisper, “Admit the truth, this is incredible, isn’t it? You always had a fantasy about us making love, didn’t you?” Thrusting, wonderful sensations of sex filling her whole body, Maggie whispers, “Yes.” After a while, explosive orgasms follow for both.
Annette climbs off Maggie, who immediately turns to look at the penis of her old roommate. “How?” “This is how,” says Annette, reaching under her chin to peel off the thin latex rubber and silicone skin covering her head, her long auburn hair coming off with it, to reveal her ex-husband John. He tosses the rubber husk aside. He sits on the bed, his full, soft breasts hanging out of the negligee, his woman’s hands resting on heavy thighs, his large round bottom showing beneath the black lace, his flaccid penis hanging out of the mouth of a vagina. From the neck down, this is a woman. Maggie stares at Annette’s head, a mask, as it rests on the bed, devoid of life.
John’s voice is still Annette’s voice. “You left me because you wanted a bisexual experience. I knew you were always turned on by Annette–the way you always talked about her. It was with her help, by the way, that I had this body mask made. It is real in every detail, and I can pass as a woman anywhere. I have a removable device in my throat that has changed my voice. I can eat, sleep, swim, and make love with this on. I want you back.”
She pauses, thinking of the possibilities. “All right,” says the wife, “I’ll take you back–but only as Annette. Put that mask back on. I never want to see your face. The only part of you I ever want to look at is this.” She cradles his penis, closing her hand around it, squeezing it. “Do you swear to abide by my conditions?”
“I swear,” he says, his voice the voice of a woman. He picks up the mask and stretches it onto his head, pulling and adjusting until he is Annette. He realizes that his passion for her has condemned him to a bizarre life–to live as a woman in this rubber suit with silicone tits and ass. As Maggie watches in fascination, he presses firmly to seal the mask on, and he is Annette, forever. His ex-wife falls on him, her mouth on his, her weight pinning him, her tongue reaching down his throat. She squeezes his penis and he grows hard again.