My Journey From Virgin To Cuckold

Thanks to Ruzie D for the edit.

They were gone. My blemishes. . . gone. The acne, the warts, blackheads, razor scars, skin pits, heck! Even the birthmark, gone, as if they never existed. My face was smooth and unblemished as a baby's ass. I looked at the rest of my body. Every lump, every trace of zits, warts, gone, all over. So was my body hair. Underarms, chest, stomach, legs, ass. . . and pubes. Hairless. . . except for my head. . . and eyebrows.

My skin looked strange. It looked pale; not pale like an albino or like I'd been sick or stuck underground. The best I could describe it was. . . translucent. I could see faint blue patterns of veins on my wrists, my temples, and my cock, my newly hairless cock. Well, maybe my skin had a slight pinkish tint, probably from blood vessels. Still, the image in the mirror was a miracle. Someone was making gasping sounds. It took a while to realize the noises were coming from me.

I couldn't think straight. The image was too. . . just too unbelievable. I feel stunned right now talking about it. Seven years of just. . . shit bad skin. . . painful shaves, skin creams, medicated soaps. . . done.

I touched the mirror. Then I touched myself. I think I cried a little. It had to be a dream, it just had to. This good luck, I mean miracle, couldn't happen to me. I was still in bed. I would wake up and be Toby the Toad, shit magnet of Theodore Roosevelt High.

But nope, it wasn't a dream. It was real, beautifully, wonderfully, overwhelmingly real. The face staring back at me was a face I'd never seen before. The last time I saw it unblemished, I was eleven. It had grown a bit.

My pale skin made what little color I had on my body. . . more colorful. My eyes looked bluer. My hair, browner, shinier. In fact I don't think I had that strange "sheen" in my hair before. I still had my eyebrows and lashes. I realized my head and eyes were areas that had been covered by that strange gel the aliens put on me, or by the strange lenses.

I went to the shower to think. I always think best in the shower but it didn't work this time. The water made me ticklish for some reason; not real ticklish but kind of distracting. I soaped up anyway.

I tried thinking about what happened the night before. I must have gotten exposed to a lot of things: weird alien chemicals, digestive fluids from an alien monster, maybe even alien viruses but I wasn't dead, and I didn't feel sick. The only thing I felt was. . . well. . . horny.

I have to say that up until that morning, I'd pretty much suppressed my sex drive. Sure I'd had my share of wet dreams but I always forced myself to forget them afterward. And I always kept little Toby quiet in the gym showers and classrooms, making sure I never thought of anyone sexy like Abigail or Miss Pierce, the English teacher, or Mrs. Sutler, Abbie's mother, or, looking back, Randy, or Mr. Erikson, the swim coach. Face it, when you look the way I used to look, you do everything to avoid attention, including avoiding erections. The last thing I needed was to look like a perverted toad, rather than just a toad, but when I looked down at my cock pointing ninety degrees out, to be frank I was just plain stunned.

I'd never seen it without the warts and zits. Most of it was always half-hidden beneath a mat of pubic hair. I won't say it was or is big, it looks big erect I guess, but I think the fact I longer had pubic hair made it look bigger. The water from the shower was drizzling on it. It felt like a handless masturbation.

In fact my entire body felt like my dick, all sensitive and aroused, and I wasn't doing anything except standing in the shower. What was causing it? I wasn't thinking anything erotic. Sex fantasy was the last thing on my mind. My thoughts weren't straight. The previous night and the morning were still processing in my head.

I gradually realized that the stroking feeling came from the water. It fell on my skin, feeling like hands stroking me everywhere. I was gasping, standing still, all my muscles tense, blushing red all over. My hard-on throbbed, raging pink. "What the fuck?!" I asked.

I took hold of my cock. I'd never really given it much thought before. I mean, my cock used to be ugly to look at, what with the warts and all. I certainly didn't like looking at it. Now, it looked like a bubblegum pink mushroom with throbbing blue veins branching around it.

When I touched it, it was. . . I don't know. . . it felt. . . good. . . I mean it felt great. It's just, I always thought when you masturbated, you had to stroke it a few times before cumming. I think the pleasure had to build, you know? Instead when I touched it, it was like, boom! Automatic. I didn't just feel it in my cock or balls, I felt it all over my body, like everything was hardwired to it. I didn't even have to stroke, just one touch and it twitched, and I came. And when I say came, I don't mean a squirt or two and that's that. I mean white cream blasting out of my pee hole like a mini-version of that hose the aliens forced me to handle.

I kept a steady stream for, I don't know, thirty seconds? A minute? It seemed longer, but then I was shaking and gasping, going, "Oh God! Oh man! Fuck!" at that point so I might be confused about the time.

The stream ebbed to a trickle and my cock deflated. . . a little. I was quaking a little and water poured on me. The horniness, arousal I mean, didn't go away. I had my hand against the wall to steady myself, feeling a little drained and confused. "Whoa! What the fuck was that?!" I thought.

I'd never cum that hard or that big before. It was like I had years of pent up sexual energy blast out of me at that instant. My jizz flowed down the wall and down the drain with the water. I decided to rinse off before I had another episode. I was still horny and all and I knew the water had a lot to do with it, so I didn't want to spend the rest of the morning cumming like some juiced up porn star. It was tempting. It wasn't like I didn't enjoy it but with it related to the aliens, I didn't want to go further until I sorted things out. I couldn't think in the shower like I wanted so I turned the water off and stepped out.

I ran into a problem when I took a towel to dry off. The same thing happened as in the shower. The touch of the cloth against my skin made me horny. "Geez!" I thought. I tried drying myself for a few seconds but every part I touched just made me hornier. I was near cumming again and my dick looked like a spear. "Fuck this!" I gasped and tossed the towel in the hamper.

I wiped the bathroom mirror and took a look at myself. I looked flushed and tense. My muscles stood out a little. It made me look a little. . . uh. . . athletic, um, at least more athletic than normal.

I mean, when I say I'm skinny, I don't mean stick figure with ribs, elbows, and Adam's apple. Basically, I'm slender, not quite athletic but not flabby either. I did some swimming for exercise, usually alone. Nobody liked changing with me in the locker room or showering for that matter. Even Coach Erikson kept me away from the others. I stayed away from junk food as well. They caused zits and I had enough problems.

It was clear whatever cured my skin disease also made my skin ultra-sensitive. If I went off with just a towel or water, what would happen if I put on clothes? I decided to put off wearing clothes until I got my head straight. I was still adjusting to my new skin. I hadn't recovered from the alien abduction. Besides, my parents were gone for the week and, other than the orthodontist, I didn't have much reason to be outside the house. I know I could have gone to the doctor over this, but what could I say? "Hey Doc, big, tall aliens kidnapped me, turned me into a human pill, and cured my chronic skin condition?"

Now, it's not as if I go naked all the time, at least I didn't used to, but I wasn't expecting visitors and I thought, "Maybe my skin needs to adjust." So I spent the morning wandering around the house, making breakfast, doing chores, and being an all around nude pervert, and then the doorbell rang.

I tried to ignore it thinking it was some girl scout or Jehovah's Witness. I didn't think it was one of the neighbors. They knew my parents were gone and no one ever came to see me. The ringing was persistent though, so I went to the door and looked out the window.

"Mrs. Holder?! What's she doing here?!"

I had a bad feeling. Mrs. Holder was a friend of my mom, but with my little streak through her backyard last night, I hoped she wasn't here about that. "God! What if she called my parents?"

My hand was on the knob before I remembered I wasn't wearing any clothes. I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should run to the bedroom and throw on some pants. I really wanted to find out what Mrs. Holder wanted however, so I opened the door a crack and spoke through it. "Uh, Mrs. Holder? Can I help you?"

"Toby? Come outside this instant! I need to talk to you young man!"

"Um, I can't right now. Um, I'm not exactly. . . uh, look, can you come back later? Or when my parents are back?

Geez! Why did I say that?!

"

"Oh no! We need to talk about your behavior Friday night! I don't know what you were thinking young man! I should have called the police! What will your parents think? You're going to come out right this instant and explain yourself!"

That was pretty much how the dialogue went, as I remember. Mrs. Holder was all huffy and outraged. I wondered, "How did she know?" I thought I'd ran through her yard pretty quick. I also wondered why she was dressed nice, almost as if she was going to church, but not on Saturday.

I wasn't too fond of the Holders, even if mom and Mrs. Holder were best friends and yoga partners. My family weren't exactly church goers. Mom and Dad were more agnostic and spiritual, unlike the Methodist Holders. Still, spiritual matters were the last thing on my mind at the moment.

I figured if I could explain, she might calm down. The problem was what to explain. I couldn't just say I was running home from an alien abduction. She'd think I'm nuts. Plus she wanted me on the porch and I hadn't a stitch of clothing on. "Uh, Mrs. Holder? Um, can you wait a second? I, uh, I can't come out really. . . uh. . ."

Mrs. Holder took a peak around the door, just a glimpse. I was behind it, I thought most of me was out of her sight but I think she saw a hip. She drew her face back, red as a beet. "So I see you've become a nudist," she sniffed. She really sounded snobby. "Well, I'll let you get dressed young man but I expect you here in five minutes."

"Uh, thanks Mrs. Holder," I muttered. I closed the door and went to my room, grumbling. I was pretty scared too. Mrs. Holder was so bossy and formal! Her daughter Sara was worse. She was the head cheerleader and queen bitch of her clique. I avoided her like the plague but really didn't have to. A worm like me was too far beneath her notice.

When I tried putting on some clothes, I ran into trouble. My undershorts and t-shirt itched like poison ivy. It was different from the towel but didn't have time to think about it. It got worse when I tried putting on jeans. After I ripped the shirt from the constant scratching, I decided "Screw it!" and took off the clothes.

So I was stuck. The doorbell was ringing, Mrs. Holder was getting impatient, and I was naked in my bedroom, trying to figure what to wear. I rummaged through the dresser and found a pair of khaki shorts. I remembered an aunt had sent the shorts as a birthday present with other clothes but misjudged my size. They fit but rode a little low. I put my feet into some sandals and went back to the door.

When I opened the door, Mrs. Holder started to say, "Now see here young man. . ." before she stopped. "Oh! I'm sorry, I thought you were Tobias. Is he still getting dressed? And who might you be if I may ask? And why are you half-dressed?" She had a look on her face, perplexed and suspicious. She later told me she thought I might have been gay. I'm running around the house naked and a half-naked stranger greets her at the door? Oh well, it's moot now. "Uh, Mrs. Holder. It's me."

"Gasp! What?! Toby?! You can't be Toby! Toby's um. . . er. . ."

I was tempted to ask, "Toby's what?" just to make her uncomfortable but that didn't seem nice. "It's me Mrs. Holder. The um, the skin cream. . . worked. . . I guess." I bit my lower lip. I'm not a good liar, but I couldn't say the cream got a little help from alien chemicals and a giant slug's digestive fluid. I just hoped Mrs. Holder would swallow it.

"Well! Well, I'll say! I recognize your voice now. You look. . . well. . . you look. . . uh, different. I mean, I can see now you take after your mother. I. . . um. . . never noticed."

We stood awkwardly on the porch for a few moments, looking at each other. Mrs. Holder had a flustered red look on her face. Her eyes glanced down, her face turned redder. I looked down, following her gaze. It was my crotch. The shorts had fallen low enough to show part of my pubic area. I kind of blushed myself. My dick wasn't exposed but I think there would have been a lot of pubic hair visible if I still had any. "Oh! Sorry Mrs. Holder, my shorts are a little large." I hitched up my shorts, trying to ignore the itch. I felt strange. I couldn't figure it out. . . at least 'til later.

Mrs. Holder's face faded to a lighter shade. "Um, yes. They do seem a little large young man. Shouldn't you put on some more clothes?"

I thought it over for a second, what to tell her. I knew I had to improvise. The medicated skin cream angle seemed best so I went with it. "Well, um, you see, I think the skin cream had some side effect. When I put on clothes, my skin itches. I haven't figured it out yet."

"Oh! Yes, I see," she reached into her purse. "Does it explain why you were in our backyard Friday night?" She drew out some photographs.

So that explained it,

I thought. Dad mentioned the Holders installed some new security system. It wasn't as if our neighborhood was south central L.A , but it wasn't Ozzie and Harriet either. Dad thought the Holders were paranoid.

The pictures were a little blurry but I could recognize my body shape and hair.

"Well? Explain yourself young man."

I went for some more improvisation. "Well, you see, I went swimming at the school and then I went into the shower and when I came out, someone had broken into my locker and took all my clothes. I think it was a spring break joke. And then we had that blackout so I thought I could dash home and nobody would see me and I tried cutting through some backyards to avoid the cops and then the lights came back on and, well, things kind of got embarrassing. I'm really sorry Mrs. Holder. Please don't tell my parents." I poured all that out in a rush and I was fidgeting and biting my lip.

Please, please, please let her buy it!

I thought.

Mrs. Holder had a skeptical look on her face. Then she smiled and nodded. "I'm not sure if I'm really getting the whole story young man, but nothing was damaged and you seem embarrassed enough. I just wanted an explanation. I guess your parents don't have to know about your impromptu streak."

"Gee, thanks Mrs. Holder," I said, very relieved.

"So, now what do we do about your itching problem?"

"Uh, Mrs. Holder?"

"Well, school starts again in a week. This week is as good as any to work on your condition. You really can't go back to school in just oversized shorts and sandals, can you?"

"Well, um Mrs. Holder, I was going to try to figure it out myself."

"Nonsense! Your mother asked me to look in on you anyway. I have some home remedies to take care of the itching. I could make you up a batch in the kitchen. Come along." And without further word, she brushed past me into the house.

"But Mrs. Holder!" I cried, stumbling after her and hitching up my shorts. Mrs. Holder was always bossy and she'd been in our house often, but I thought, even then, it was a bit awkward for a teenage boy, like me, to be alone in a house with a woman twice his age, especially if her daughter sat next to me in English class. But if that was awkward, what happened next made my alien abduction look like a trip to Daytona.

To Be Continued.