Allen stirred, disentangling himself from Susan's slumbering form. She snored lightly as he tiptoed from the room. Allen suddenly became aware of the call that had roused him. His bladder. Damn! No wonder Jen was always scurrying off to the loo! She must have a bladder the size of a grape!
Back in her room, Allen scooped Jen's phone off the dresser on the way to the toilet but waited until he was seated and his pee contentedly flowing into the bowl before he gave it his attention. The home screen opened at recognizing Jen's face, incidentally hiding a single message alert before he could read it.
He found the new message. It was from his number. In all that had happened over the past day, Allen hadn't noticed until now that he was listed in her contacts as Maine Squeeze, an allusion to his North Atlantic origins. He chuckled at the sly bit of humor and opened his message app.
Directly under the last pic he'd sent was a single line of text...
Allen? Please tell me that's you!
He typed and erased several abortive replies, then...
Yes. It's me. I don't know what's going on, but everything's going to be okay, Jen. We'll figure this out together
(hug emoji)!
Allen had long finished peeing when he realized he'd been sitting there just staring at the screen, anxious to see the tiny rippling dots telling him that Jen is typing...
When the phone refused to comply with his wishes, he set it on the vanity, wiped his vagina, and took notice of the shower. Just the thing, he thought, and soon he was relaxing under the steamy jets. He stood there a long while and just let the water soak his hair, run down his shoulders and back, spray his body with a hot, relaxing cascade of not worrying about anything else just for this long moment.
He picked up a loofa and squirted it liberally with Jen's body wash. The sensation of the soapy sponge against his skin was delicious! Especially when he washed his boobs, hefting and soaping and lathering the substantial glands with both hands, tweaking his thick, erect, crinkly nipples in his fingers.
"Aaaaahhh.... Mmmmmm...," he sighed aloud.
Impulsively, he grabbed the shower head and lifted it from its cradle. Cocking one leg up on the edge of the tub, he directed the jets against his mons. The hot water felt so good pulsing through his soaked muff of thick pubes and trickling down and back across his smooth lips!
"Aaah," he sighed. Allen reached between his thighs and parted his lips, directing the jets to spray directly against his sex.
"Ooh! Oh, fuck! Wow!" Damn! That felt so fucking good! Allen held the jets just like that for so long that the rest of his body had almost started to notice the chill. Then he was startled by the chime of the phone's message alert.
Reluctantly, Allen shut off the water, toweled off quickly and slipped on Jen's thick terry robe. He wrapped his hair into a turban with a fresh towel and picked up the phone. He hesitated a moment, then shoved the phone into the robe's pocket and contemplated Jen's face in the mirror.
At last, he padded out to the bed and sat in the edge. Anxious and a bit nervous, he pulled the phone out and opened the message...
GTFOHRFN
He chuckled softly and heard Jen's melodic laugh. "Get the fuck over here right fucking now, eh?" It was Jen's standard booty call text and it usually filled him with arousal and hot anticipation. Now, in this context, he read it as a demand expressing perhaps a different need.
He set about dressing. He found panties and slipped them on. Did he need a pad, he worried briefly. He didn't feel crampy. But he was moist again for no apparent damned reason. He opted for a pad anyway just to be safe. He found one in her drawer and applied it clumsily but effectively. Bra? Fuck that noise; he didn't have time to figure it out. He slipped on a zip sweat top and slid his legs into the matching bottoms. Sox, runners, and he was dressed. Keys! They were on the bureau. Allen scooped them up along with Jen's wallet and quietly left the house.
Jen's Mini purred to life and nestled comfortably against his butt and back. He drove through the quiet, softly-lit streets of late-night suburbia. In ten minutes, he was home. Or at his house. Allen's house. Glad that he'd given Jen a key, he strode up to the door and let himself in with practiced ease.
He found her in the living room, legs tucked up on the couch under a comfy blanket, sipping on a tall scotch, neat. The bottle was on the end table beside him... er, beside her. He looked at himself and wrestled a moment with the reality that that was now Jen.
She looked up and saw him and sprang towards him, closing the distance before the blanket could even fall away. She threw his arms around herself and hugged him tight. His own voice murmured in his ear, "Oh fuck, Allen! What the fuck is going on!?"
"I don't know. I don't know, Baby, but we're gonna be okay," he reassured her. "We are okay! We're together. I'm here."
She held him tight and breathed out a long, ragged sigh then took in a shuddering breath and blew it out again before letting go of him and stepping back. The blanket fell away.
"Okay," she said, holding his gaze. "Then maybe you can tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to do with
this!
" Allen watched her knife blade both hands at her crotch, pointing at his cock bobbing in front of her, bouncing contentedly in time with her heartbeat.
Allen felt his pussy start to tingle at the sight. He'd never seen his cock so hard. He'd always thought of himself as slightly above average, but the boner that hung in front of him now looked fucking immense to him!
"Wow! Nice cock," he said, the words coming out wrapped in the upper range of Jen's soft alto voice. He smiled at her and she smiled back sheepishly, Jen's customary smirk erupting incongruously across his own familiar face. Suddenly, both broke out laughing hysterically, all the anxiety and stress of the past day washing out in a shared acknowledgement of the ridiculous strangeness of their new, shared predicament. Allen wrapped his arms around her again and they held each other close, still shuddering with laughter.
Allen hugged her tight. As their shared outburst subsided, he became aware of a warm pressure against the front of his sweatpants that was making his pussy tingle. He slipped one hand against Jen's neck and looked into her eyes. "You okay?"
"Yeah.... Yeah. I'm okay," she sighed.
"So... Is that a zucchini in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"
Tears glistened across her eyes. "Oh, Allen! I'm 'happy' to see fucking
anything
! Girls, guys, a table lamp, a fucking fruit salad! This fucking thing just won't turn off! How the fuck do you live with this thing!?!?"
Allen chuckled. "Well, you know... usually, if you're not around to take make good use of it, I just... you know..." He lifted his right hand and gave her the international sign for male masturbation.
"I fucking
tried
that," she cried, stomping her foot for emphasis and making her cock bob wildly.
