Posted on

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Babes

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER – Richie, the nerd still in the body of his twin sister Dakota’s jock boyfriend Troy makes the most of this situation on Sunday morning by doing no end of sexy things with his very sexy sister. Troy, still masquerading as his girlfriend’s brother, is in a house with two sexy women – Richie’s hot aunt and cousin – but things don’t go so well to put it mildly, especially with Richie’s uncle – a stern judge – most unimpressed with his ‘nephew’s’ antics …

All characters and situations in this story are fictional with any similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. Only characters aged 18 and over are in any sexual situations. Please note that this story contains strong gross-out humor including toilet scenes and references to menstruation that may not appeal to everyone. Otherwise, please enjoy the second last chapter in this series and rate and comment.

***

Richie awoke shortly after 3 am having dreamed that he had now changed back out of Troy’s body and a feeling of alarm ran through his body. Had they indeed changed back? With Dakota sound asleep beside him in their parents’ bed and the room completely dark, Richie had one sure way to find out.

Putting his hand into his boxer shorts he immediately felt Troy’s massive manhood rather than his own unimpressive penis, and brushing his hand against his chest he felt the curls of hair that grew on Troy’s chest, but not on his own.

Dakota stirred in her sleep, mumbling something under her breath, and Richie felt his one of his sister’s bare feet against his own. Lying alongside Dakota and again spooning his twin sister, Richie fell back to sleep within minutes.

More than 80 kilometers away from Brisbane, the real Troy awoke at the same moment thinking he was in his own body and back in his own room at his parents’ house, then realized that he was still at Richie and Dakota’s aunt and uncle’s house on the Gold Coast.

Everybody in the house was sound asleep in the early hours of the morning, and Troy wanted to join them in the land of nod, but was unable to do so thanks to a bursting bladder. Not wanting to wake anyone else up, Troy got out of bed and stumbled to the toilet in the darkness, half asleep and feeling his way around the unfamiliar layout of the house, finally reaching the lavatory.

Putting up the toilet seat, Troy pulled Richie’s unimpressive penis out of his boxer shorts, pointed it at the toilet and had a massive piss, yellow liquid going everywhere in the toilet bowl. Shaking his dick when he finally finished, Troy flushed the piss away and washed his hands, then made his way back to his bedroom, feeling his way through the darkness again.

Reaching the bedroom he was sharing with Jack, Troy paused, feeling most puzzled. The door was closed, but Troy was sure he had left it open. He shrugged, he must just have been mistaken. Opening the door, Troy saw the shape of his bed in the darkness and stumbled towards it.

Had it been full daylight and Troy completely awake, he would have seen his error. The walls of this bedroom were not painted blue like Jack’s bedroom, but were painted pink in color. There were posters of ballerinas on the walls, as opposed to the super-heroes who populated the posters on Jack’s bedroom walls, and other things such as a couple of plush toy animals on a shelf and a picture of a unicorn hanging on the wall that suggested that the person who occupied this room was female.

More significantly was the absence of a second bed in this room, there was only one single bed, and it was fully occupied by the petite and sound-asleep occupant of this bedroom, her red hair cascading over her pretty face. Troy was so dopey that he did not notice and pulled back the covers, getting into bed and wondering why it felt like there was somebody else in there.

The sleeping Ashley stirred in her sleep as she felt a masculine presence in her bed beside her, and in the teenager’s sub-conscious she was carried back to the night a few weeks ago when her parents and brother were out and her boyfriend joined her in her bed, Ashley making herself available to him.

A smile came over Ashley’s sleeping face, and between her legs her clitoris reacted. “Oh Jamie,” she mumbled, feeling the presence of her boyfriend in her dreams.

Beside Ashley, Troy stopped in horror at hearing Ashley’s voice and he was now fully awake. He had gotten the wrong bedroom, and was now in bed with Richie and Dakota’s cousin. Fuck! There was only one thing to do, get the fuck out of here as fast as he could.

Troy went to do just this, but it was already too late. Ashley was already awake and aware that she should be alone in her bed, there should not be anyone getting in beside her. Her heart racing, fear turning to panic rising in the pit of her stomach the teenager screamed loudly, turning on her bedside light to reveal her cousin Richie in his boxer shorts, attempting to get into bed with her.

Ashley’s scream immediately roused her parents, brother and uncle from their sleep and obviously thinking that she was casino şirketleri in danger, raced from their bedrooms to hers.

In her bedroom Ashley, breathing heavily and white from shock, leaped out of bed, barefoot and dressed in long lightweight pajamas, light blue in color with pretty white seashells and seahorses. Her pretty face was etched with fear and fury in equal measures.

“Richie, what the hell are you doing?” Ashley screeched.

Troy was stunned. “Sorry Ashley, I must have got the wrong bedroom …”

“How could you mix up my bedroom and Jack’s bedroom?” Ashley stormed.

“What is going on in here?” roared Gary Mitchell, he and his wife, son and brother filling the doorway looking in dismay at the terrified Ashley and the stunned Richie standing in front of his cousin wearing his boxer shorts.

Ashley pointed accusingly at her cousin. “Richie came into my bedroom and tried getting into bed with me while I was asleep!”

Cheryl moved forward to reassure her traumatized daughter and Gary went the color of a beetroot. “What?” he bellowed.

Troy, feeling absolute panic, babbled, “Sorry, no, I didn’t mean to, I got the wrong room, I didn’t mean to get into bed with Ashley, I wasn’t trying to have sex with her or anything …”

“How on Earth could you have gotten the rooms mixed up?” shouted Gary, Troy trembling at Richie’s uncle’s fury. “You’ve been in this house plenty of times. Don’t ever let me catch you in my daughter’s bedroom again, is that clear?”

Troy tried to swallow his terror. “Yes sir.”

The eyes of the Mitchell family glared at Troy, making him feel like even more of a pariah. He could see that Ashley’s father wanted to punch him, as did her brother and he felt that the glare of Cheryl Mitchell as she sat on the bed with her arm around her daughter might turn him into stone.

It was a stern faced Doug Mitchell who was next to speak. “Richie, apologize to your cousin right now.”

“Um sorry, Ashley,” Troy offered. Ashley’s indignant glare in response indicated that she did not accept the apology one bit.

“Now, let’s give Ashley some space, especially you Richie,” said Doug.

“I’ll go back to Jack’s room,” said Troy. “Again, sorry everyone.”

“Oh no, you will be coming with me,” said Doug. He turned to his brother, sister-in-law, niece and nephew. “I can’t apologize enough for this.” Doug then strode into Jack’s bedroom and took the duvet cover off the fold out bed where Troy had been sleeping and a pillow, carrying them back to the guest bedroom where he was staying.

“I am so disappointed in you Richie,” Doug scolded Troy. “What were you thinking, frightening poor Ashley like that?”

“Dad, sorry, I didn’t mean to, I got the rooms mixed up …”

“After you described Ashley as ‘hot’ in that train-wreck yesterday morning? If that didn’t scare her, your antics tonight sure did.” Doug put the duvet and pillow on the floor and pointed at them. “That is where you will be sleeping the rest of the night Richie so I can keep an eye on you. What is wrong with you lately? You stay away from your cousin, is that clear Richie?”

“Yes.” Troy lay down on the floor, wrapping himself in the duvet while Doug got into the bed.

Sleep did not come quickly or easily to any of the six occupants of the Mitchell family’s Gold Coast house. Troy could not believe how things kept going wrong, and wished that he could change bodies, lamented why this body swap thing had to happen with him and hoped he could change back with Richie sooner rather than later.

Doug worried about what had happened with his son. Richie was normally such a good kid, but these last few days it was like he was a whole different person. Not for the first time, thoughts of drugs crossed his mind, but Doug dismissed them. Richie would never get involved with drugs. And as a doctor, Doug knew the signs of drug use. Just two weeks ago a mother who clearly lived in a town called ‘Denial’ brought in her slacker 16-year-old son and a list of ailments that could be afflicting her teenager and making him sullen and lazy. Doug had known right away from first glance at the boy that he was doing marijuana. But as for Richie, there was no ready explanation. Doug thought maybe he should have brought his daughter’s dim-witted boyfriend to the Gold Coast for the night. Troy could not possibly have done any worse than Richie.

In her bedroom, Ashley tried to fall asleep after the rude shock of being awoken by her cousin trying to get into bed with her. This after Richie had called her hot during the morning, had been acting inappropriately with her and her mother’s cloth period pads and made a total jackass out of himself many other times. Plus what was it with his memory, it was like he had somehow forgotten large chunks of his life, or remembered them wrong. And it was not like Richie at all. Ashley considered Richie a good friend as well as her cousin. So what was going on this weekend?

Jack fumed in his bedroom about his cousin scaring his sister like that. It made no sense why Richie would do such a thing, but casino firmaları then there was that strange incident on the patio where Jack had caught Richie perving at his mother and sister’s bras and knickers. Then there was the car crash with the cloth pads hanging on the line next to the underwear. Granted, Richie might not have known what cloth pads were for being male, but his immature behavior was most out of character. He just could not believe Richie was acting this way.

Gary and Cheryl Mitchell had given up on the prospect of falling asleep again, and were lying in their king-sized bed in the master bedroom, unable to make any sense of the events of the past 24 hours. Both the judge and the lawyer in the week ahead knew they had cases in the courts coming up about weird people doing weird things.

Cheryl was prosecuting a case where a pervert with a phone camera had allegedly been filming up girls’ skirts and in women’s change-rooms and toilets, then putting the videos on the internet. He had been arrested when he had passed out drunk in a female toilet block on the Gold Coast.

Gary, a man who did not suffer fools gladly, would have his court room filled with fools as her oversaw a bizarre case involving two rival groups of a large dysfunctional family that fought with each other like they were on a real life soap opera. The warring family members’ antics included dying a poodle bright pink, pouring cola all over a car, setting up one woman’s profile on a meeting board for a hardcore BDSM website, spreading false rumors that one of the men in the family was a pedophile, smearing the exterior of a house with pig excrement, physical fights and breaching the many apprehended violence orders family members had taken out against each other.

But this was at work, a place where many bizarre things could be expected in the law courts. This was the weekend, and Gary and Cheryl Mitchell did not expect their nephew to be acting like a total jackass in their house, and perving on both Cheryl and their teenage daughter.

“I feel like strangling him,” said Gary furiously as his wife told him that she had seen Richie loitering near the bottom of the stairs, perving on Ashley’s knickers as she descended. “And after he was looking under your shirt at your panties when you were in the kitchen.”

“Talk about odd and creepy,” said Cheryl. “And what were you saying about Richie with the photos in the living room?”

“Looking at the photos of you and Ashley like there were pictures from a pornographic magazine,” growled Gary. He shook his head. “I can’t work out what’s wrong with Richie. He’s a great kid normally, wouldn’t put a foot wrong. I mean, we saw him just two weeks ago and he was fine wasn’t he?”

“Yes, perfectly normal,” agreed Cheryl, before she winced, rubbing her tummy, clenching her bare toes as the uncomfortable feeling passed.

Gary looked at his wife in concern. “You’re not feeling any better, honey?”

“No, I thought the laxatives and prune juice might have kicked in by now but no such luck yet.”

Going to the toilet had been no problem at all for Cheryl the previous week in the early part of her period. As was the case every 28 days with Cheryl’s uterus shedding its lining and vast quantities of blood pouring out of vagina and into her cloth sanitary pads, Cheryl’s bowels became hyperactive and her visits to the loo were frequent and lengthy. Tuesday was particularly bad, Cheryl sitting on the toilet with her knickers around her ankles in the female toilets at the law courts unable to stop pooing, aware that she had to be back in courtroom soon and the judge in this case would admonish her for being late like she was a schoolgirl who had taken too long in the toilet after being given the lavatory pass rather than the experienced prosecuting barrister that she was.

With Ashley’s uterus also shedding its lining and her heavy menstrual flow coming out of her vagina and into her cloth napkins, her bowels had been playing up like her mother’s and the stocks of toilet paper in the Mitchell house had been diminished very quickly. But while Ashley’s bowels had returned to normal as her period finished for the month, Cheryl now had the opposite problem — constipation. Cheryl had last been to the toilet for a poo on Thursday morning at work, but had been bound up badly since then. Friday and Saturday morning hadn’t been so bad, but by Saturday afternoon she really needed to take a crap but was unable to do so. Now Cheryl felt like she needed to have diarrhea, but her bottom was not cooperating. She could only hope that the laxatives she had taken washed down with a huge glass of prune juice just before bed would do its job and soon.

Cheryl and Gary sat up in bed reading novels that were unlike what one might normally expect from a judge and a lawyer. Cheryl read a trashy romance novel while her husband engrossed himself in a supernatural book about vampires. As the time of five o’clock came out on the bedside clock, Cheryl said to Gary, “Are you still going running with Doug?”

Gary looked at the clock, put down his book and yawned. güvenilir casino “Yes, a nice relaxing run along the river and beach would be good for both of us.”

Gary got out of bed, the fit middle aged man putting on undies, running shorts, a tank top and running shoes and socks. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us, Cheryl?”

Cheryl shook her head. “No thanks. I would say yes, but with my tummy troubles I’ll probably be forced to duck behind a bush with you passing me tissues at some point. Plus, you want to catch up with your brother.”

“Yes,” agreed Gary. He did indeed spending time with his brother and normally his nephew too, before Richie turned into some dimwitted pervert who Gary more usually expected to appear in the law courts rather than at his house. “As long as Richie doesn’t come along too.”

Cheryl laughed. “Richie? Running? Sports of any kind? I don’t think so.”

“That’s true. Well, I’d better be going,” said Gary.

“Yes, you’d better,” said Cheryl. She smiled and indicated her stomach. “You don’t want to be here when the inevitable happens with my tummy. Believe me, you really don’t want to be anywhere near me when the laxatives and prune juice finally work.” Cheryl laughed. “I don’t want to be anywhere near me, but I don’t have much choice, I’m going to be the one sitting on the toilet.”

Gary laughed. “I definitely agree there Cheryl.” He leaned over and he and his wife exchanged a kiss on the lips. “Feel better soon, honey.”

“You and Doug enjoy your run,” said Cheryl.

Gary left the bedroom and closed the door behind himself, finding his brother already waiting for him, similarly dressed in running gear. Doug had gotten up extra quiet so as not to rouse his ‘son’, figuring that Richie could not do any damage while still asleep, unless he took to sleepwalking too.

The two men exited the house, Jack heading out too for an early morning bike ride, the young man giving his uncle and father a friendly wave. This left just Troy and Ashley, both sound asleep, in the house along with the very much awake and very uncomfortable Cheryl.

In her bedroom, Cheryl tried to concentrate on her romance novel but with three days of poo up her bottom, it was easier said than done. The petite blonde massaged her stomach and winced. Five minutes passed and Cheryl could feel the urgency increase in her bowels and her bladder also was giving her indications that it was close to full.

Cheryl swung her bare feet out of bed and hurriedly walked to the toilet, closing and locking the ensuite bathroom door behind herself. Hurrying to the loo, Cheryl made sure that she had plenty of toilet paper to use, put the seat down, lifted her over-sized tee-shirt to show her white bikini briefs, before pulling them down to her ankles and sitting on the toilet. With her knees apart, Cheryl’s crotch was visible and she sported a triangle of blonde curls on her pubic mound showing she was natural blonde, her vagina pink and a perfect oval shape.

Cheryl’s front bottom gave her no problems at all. Yellow pee cascaded out of Cheryl’s urethra and tinkled into the toilet bowl, the sound of her urinating on the toilet filling the bathroom. When her piss stream abated, Cheryl got some toilet paper and dried her vagina, disposed of the wet tissue in the bowl and repositioned herself on the toilet seat. Now it was time to deal with her back bottom.

Feeling she was about to have diarrhea, Cheryl’s bare toes clenched up on the tiled floor, the attractive blonde looking down at her feet and her knickers. She strained expecting her poop to come with a rush, bracing herself for the unpleasant feeling of an avalanche of shit to come out of her rectum not to mention the smell — and nothing happened. Cheryl’s tight star-fish shaped anus remained completely closed. Cheryl, most dismayed, tried to defecate again, but straining did nothing apart from allowing her to pass gas.

The frustrated Cheryl spent a full five minutes on the loo desperately trying to have a poo, but despite urgently needing to go to the toilet and sitting on one with her knickers around her ankles, Cheryl was not able to achieve this simple wish.

Giving up, Cheryl stood up off the toilet seat and flushed the toilet. She pulled up her knickers and adjusted them around her box and her bottom, smoothing down her oversized tee-shirt. Washing her hands, the petite barefoot blonde returned to bed, massaging her stomach and trying to read her book, hoping her constipation problem would soon be over and wondering how her husband and brother-in-law were going on their run.

It was still dark outside as Doug and Gary pounded the pavements along the Broadwater Parklands, but there was plenty of track lighting at the park plus much illumination from the glittering Gold Coast high rises, the, streaks of yellow sun appearing on the horizon over the sea and the moon and stars still shining in the night sky. Many people were already out and about running and cycling. Some bats flew overhead in the dawn, a flock of seagulls screeched as the noisy birds made and early start while the ibises were already up and about, scavenging rubbish from bins and honking loudly as they squabbled. More pleasant were the warbling of magpies, the laughing of kookaburras and the distinctive songs of the currawongs.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir