After the intense experience at my workplace, I needed to change. I needed a shower. I needed to reset. Looking at myself in the rearview mirror of my suburu, my unfamiliar red locks cascading down my crumpled long sleeve shirt, stretched tight by the full bust. The gender flip week had impacted everyone - and the results were chaotic. For me, it had turned my Will Riker beard and physique into a leggy redhead with intense sexual stamina.
My wife and I had given each other a hall pass for the week. I think Brenna had just wanted an opportunity to have sex as a man - she always favored women sexually anyway and now to experience it with a penis? But for me, I had never intended anything more than some light flirting.
How wrong I was. There was a fire that had gotten a hold of me and I couldn't shake it. Already, I had begun a violent and passionate relationship with my sister-in-law Becka, and had just finished fucking every hard cock who wanted me at my workplace. How could I even show my face again? My unfamiliar face . . . only a few more days to get through. I needed a fresh start. Like I said, a reset. I grabbed my gym bag from home and dragged my disheveled mess of a self to the YMCA.
The building was old and had all the charm of a school gymnasium but it was cheap and cleanish. I beeped my way past the front desk and made it all the way to the men's locker room on autopilot. I opened the door and made my way past the men, toweled and shirtless. My appearance drew some attention as I squared up in front of an unoccupied locker.
"Hey, hey!" A larger man, broad shouldered, black, and bald, snapped his fingers in front of my head as I started to pull my shirt off. "You can't be in here. Wrong locker room."
I looked around. The men had all turned towards me. Big men, small men, young men and old, faces intense or amused or concerned. I looked down at my full womanly curves, the large DD breasts that threatened to spill out of my top and the black pleated skirt that showed off my pale thighs.
"Oh. Right. Sorry guys!" I tried to keep it light, my mind racing. What if I had stayed there, what would they have done to me? I took some shaky breaths, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I fled the locker room and made my way down the hallway to the women's locker room.
Relax, Ryan, they were probably just as confused and disoriented as you were. My reassurances ring hollow remembering the way that some of them looked at me. God, this gender flip week was exhausting, everyone was just horny as hell.
The women's locker room was, unsurprisingly, not that different from the men's, a mirrored layout of lockers and communal showers, a sauna room and an entrance to the pool. Four women were in various states of undress, an older woman in her late fifties, uncaringly stepping out of the shower, a statuesque blonde pulling a tight sports shirt over a slender bust, two brunettes in their forties, gabbing away as they tied their tennis shoes. I find a locker in the corner and pop it open without a second glance.
CLATTER. A cell phone on a tripod falls out of the locker and onto the floor. I put down my bag and peered at the contraption. Yes, it was duct taped to the inside of the locker, tilted at such an angle as to give a panoramic view of the locker room. Someone was being a peeping tom.
I looked around, but no one was paying any attention. It was still recording, so the naughty spy probably was not far - it was a proper phone so they would not have wanted to leave it for long. Most likely they set it up, when to do their work out and hoped they would get lucky.
Who could have set this up? The most logical choice would be another man like myself, affected by the Gender Swap week, who was spying on his fellow women. After the week was over, he would have some great footage for his spank bank. Or at least, he would have if I hadn't chosen his locker to use.
Wild thoughts raced through my head. Maybe there was a way to have fun and not get carried away, I told myself. I carefully replaced the phone in its hiding spot, making sure I was standing right in the center of its view. I gave it a big saucy wink and slowly pulled my shirt over my head, revealing my full breasts clumsily contained by Brenna's old black bra. I ran a hand through my curly locks and shook my shoulders slowly before unhooking the bra and tossing it aside.
My nipples, pale and hard, drew those breasts to proud points. I gave the nipples a gentle tweak, sending a shiver of pleasure through my body. I felt that same thrill, that heart pounding delirium, to be drunk on the power of your own arousal was an incredible feeling.
I reach down and hook my thumbs into my skirt, sliding it down my full hips, passing my long white thighs till it pools at my feet leaving me in the simple black panties. I turn around and drop the panties, making sure to give the camera a nice loving look. I slap my cheek, leaving a little handprint, oh I am way too into this. I sit down on the bench and spread my legs, giving the camera a full view of my short, red curls and glistening lips.
I reach down and teasingly trace the outside of my lips, biting my lip to keep from moaning, before making lazy circles around my clit. The sensation was overwhelming and my head fell back, eyes closed, lost in the slowly building pleasure.
"Uhnnnnggnn." I moan and then quickly look around. The older woman who had stepped out of the shower had glanced around the row of lockers.
"You okay, dude?" She, well, I guess, he says. I snap my legs together and shoot off an embarrassed, "yeah, I'm good." over my shoulder.
I lean in conspiratorially to the camera, "Hope you liked that. Find me if you want to see more." I whisper before throwing on my gym clothes and heading out to the weight room.
###
My wife's old workout clothes were not well-suited to my new frame - the sports bra was too tight, the shorts doing a poor job of covering my acres of leg, but it was good enough for the YMCA on a Thursday afternoon. I hit the cardio machines for a solid twenty without too much trouble before doing some free weight lunges and barbell curls.
I'm not sure if the calories I gained during this week stayed with me after the gender flip or if this was all worthless anyway but it helped clear my mind and that was worth it alone. The gym was only sparsely attended; a rail-thin old man hitting the treadmill, the statuesque blonde woman doing pull-ups and two younger white guys, college kids maybe, doing more talking than motion on the nautilus machines.
The large black man, the one who snapped at me earlier, was doing reps with some of the larger barbells. He gave me an appreciative once over when I entered but had not said a word as I joined him in the free weights section. Still riding high from the video in the locker, I made sure to plant myself fully in his range of vision as I did my lunges, twists and curls.
Catching him out of the corner of my eye, it was clear he had lost whatever momentum he had, sitting dumbly on the bench, idly holding a 25 pound weight, watching as I did bends in front of him. I let him watch, my thoughts running wild.
I wonder what he would look like naked. I wonder what his cock would look like, how he would look when I put him inside me? His muscular frame straining, arms like tree trunks pushing me down . . . Pace yourself, I took a deep breath. The goal was NOT to leap into another physical encounter. Just finish up your workout.
