Up on the mountain, Johar was bored. Bored, bored bored bored bored. Even the god of sexual love can get bored with the routine job. Granted, he loved his job, and loved even more watching his subjects fall victim to his mischief. Watching the other gods carefully avoid him when he had that gleam in his eye was half the fun; gods were very funny when in the throes of orgasm.
But, there was little variation. Somewhere along the line, he had lost the meaning, and just didn't care any more. His creativity was at an all time low, and he just didn't seem to have the energy to come up with something new. Wandering around, he sifted through his messages, getting the usual wanton lust requests, etc. With a wave of his hand, he granted all of them, and then went back to sulking.
Down on earth, there was an eager conversation occurring between several college students. Of course, it was over the usual topics- the war of the sexes. This time, the discussion was revolving around who had it better, the men or the women. The men were stating that the women had it better, for the sole reason that they didn't have to work for sex. The women, of course, held fast on the old standby that it was hard work to maintain the level of sexiness that men want. Also, men didn't have to worry about the monthly visitor, which ruined everything. The men countered with the fact that a woman's period was made up for the fact that they could have three different kinds of orgasms, and be multiorgasmic at that. And on the battle raged.
Johar glanced down, and saw the typical debate, and would have forgotten about it, if it hadn't been for the vehemence with which the two main arguers were fighting. He saw a young man and a young woman, both extremely attractive, but getting nowhere in there argument fast. Bemused, Johar stared down with more intensity.
"You have no idea what you are talking about," Julie said. "You can't make a blanket statement about all women just like that!"
"Neither can you!" Tom said. "Have you ever tried to ask someone out on a date?"
"Yes," Julie said, much to Tom's surprise. "I have."
Tom's argument was shot, but he saw an opening. "And did you get the date?" Julie was very attractive. Tom knew the answer.
"Yes," she said.
"See!" Tom exclaimed. "You have no idea what it's like to be shot down. It's not easier being a guy."
Julie shook her long blonde hair. "Look," she said, exasperated. "I don't have enough time to stand here arguing about this. I have to study."
As they went their separate ways, Tom and Julie both seethed. Each knew that the other was wrong, but there was obviously no way they could prove it, and unfortunately each was forced to drop it.
Johar didn't, though. Inside his mischeivious mind, a plan formed. He set off to find Caranaah, the bringer of dreams. Once he found her, he whispered his intentions into her ear. Caranaah usually loved helping Johar, because he was a lot more fun than Trita, the creator of nightmares. Caranaah listened eagerly, and readily agreed to his plan. This was going to be fun.
That night, Jonar and Caranaah flew down to earth, and entered the dreams of both Julie and Tom. This wasn't going to be an ordinary dream, and extra special care needed to be taken place. Caranaah flew to Tom, and lay her divine body next to his sleeping form.
In his dream, Tom slept restlessly, still continuing his argument with Julie. Julie was before him, still talking about women not having a fair shake. Caranaah entered his mind, and controlled the dream. Inside the dream, Tom saw Julie was suddenly naked. Canaraah looked down and saw that the effect was taking place, and gripped his member with appreciation and fascination. She sighed. Bringing dreams was always a wonderful experience, especially when she collaberated with Johar. Her delicate hands clasped around Tom, and she tried to make up her mind whether or not to give him a wet dream. She loved making men come in their sleep, although there was no satisfaction since they didn't know she was the one who gave it to them.
Johar went immediately to Julie's bedside. Invisible to the eye, he watched her sleeping form. He, too, entered her thoughts, and told her to envision Tom as a sexual object. Johar, being the god of sexuality, had a much easier time than Caranaah in turning humans on, and Julie was moaning in her sleep. Johar watched as she rubbed her legs together and caressed herself while she slept.
Tom dreamed of Julie, and Julie dreamt of Tom. Together, their nudity meshed and the argument faded. Tom felt himself slide deep inside Julie, and caressed the inner folds of her pussy with his shaft. Johar and Caranaah focused their energies so that Tom's and Julies thoughts and memories meshed. Tom and Julie seemed to float in the air, making love and having sex in every possible position. At times, their bodies buzzed with excitement and orgasm. Tom felt the sensations of mulitple orgasms as Caranaah caressed him with her hands, mouth, and sex; a sensation he had never felt before. At times, Julie became the aggressor, and had the strange sensation of entering Tom, but how could that be? It was something she had never experienced before.
Jorah watched as Julie squirmed on her bed, and watched, fascinated, as her hand snaked down in her sleep between her legs as they rubbed together. Her hand now securely inside her pussy, her legs closed around her fingers, hightening her pleasure. Johar made perfectly sure that she remained asleep.
Tom erect prick twitched as Caranaah swallowed it. Inside her divine mouth, he felt as he had never done before. Her masterful caresses and strokes worked; his cream tasted like ambrosia. Together, Johar and Caranaah made Julie and Tom climax. Just afterwards, both lay still, arms at their sides.
The next morning, Tom woke up. His head filled with crashing thoughts and extreme pain, as well as an ache in his groin. He looked down, and nearly screamed. He couldn't see his prick. In fact, he couldn't see anything but two breasts which blocked out everything except his feet. Gasping in horror, he sat up on the bed, and looked directly into a full length mirror. Somehow, he knew it wasn't his room, and yet he did. Confused, the figure in the mirror looked back at him. Unfortunately for Tom, it wasn't his figure.
Julie's image stared back at him, and he gaped, open mouthed. The figure in the mirror looked silly like that, so he shut it. He got out of bed, and wandered over to the full length mirror, and gazed at the extraordinarily beautiful figure there. Julie's long blonde hair was only slightly disheveled from the torrid night's sleep, and still hung midway down her back. Tom reached back, and grasped the fine hairs. Looking down, he saw the breasts that once were hers, as now his. He lightly touched them, and found that they were much more sensitive than his own, male breasts had been.
"Holy SHIT!" he cried. His voice was Julie's, and the high- pitched sound startled him so that he covered his mouth with a dainty hand. He began to check out his body - now hers, and sat down on the bed, still staring into the mirror. Scared, he struggled to overcome his disorientation, and found that he remembered a dream, in which he had sex with Julie. But he wasn't Julie, he was Tom. Or was he?
His hands began to wander over the new body, feeling it's softness, and it's wonderful touch. His body felt exquisite to the touch, and he loved how he made himself feel. His fingers reached into his slit, and he found himself wet. Smiling, he looked into the mirror, and decided that he better reorientate himself into a feminate mode.
Tom-now-Julie inserted her fingers into her slit, and marveled at the sensation. This was much better than stroking himself. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a memory surfaced. Rising from the bed, she walked over to the top drawer of her bureau, and opened it. Inside, she pulled out a familiar toy. the Tom side of her mind marveled at why she would need something like this, and the memory responded with the knowledge that Julie was her own best lover.
She pulled out the rubber prick, and went back to the bed, not bothering to close the drawer. Staring into the mirror, she aimed the head at her hole, and rested it there. She sat there, relishing the combined feeling of a completely familiar and utterly new sensation. Slowly, she pushed the head inside of her. Never feeling anything inside him before, Tom wondered why women didn't want to get this feeling all the time. In the mirror, she saw herself masturbating, and instinctively, her hand went to her breast. Gently she stroked the soft, delicate skin with her fingertips and nails, and gasped. Never before and the always known crashed in her mind. Her hands cupped the firm flesh, and a world opened up to Tom. He lay back on the bed, unable to sit up any longer.
Lying down, she was able to push the dildo entirely inside herself, and she wondered at the beautiful intrusion inside of her. With her fingers, she prodded the deepest crevaces, moving the dildo in circles and in and out. One hand left her breast to touch her clit, and she stroked herself with her fingernails. She arched her back, hoping to bring the dildo in deeper. Suddenly, she felt her inner walls contracting violently. While it was a familiar sensation, it was entirely different for Tom. His body was running away with him. Somehow, the inner body had taken control, squeezing and grabbing the hard intruder. Tom felt slightly scared, but the immense pleasure overwhelmed him. At her entrance, her muscles pulled and attacked the rubber cock. The friction put her over the edge. One hand whisked quickly over her clit, while her inner muscles vibrated and clutched. She began fucking herself with the false prick faster and faster, coming both from her clitoris and her pussy. She came hard, gripping the prick with both hands, and thrusting it inside of her.
As the orgasm subsided, she began to caress her breasts once more, and a thought breached her excitation. If Tom had now become Julie, with Julie's memories, does that mean that...
Julie was now Tom.
Her revelation was not as pleasant, however. When she awoke, she was greeted with Tom's seven inch prick standing tall and proud in front of her. She recoiled in the bed, but it followed, swinging wildly. Fortunately for her, Caranaah had swallowed all of Tom's come, so she didn't have to deal with any stickiness. Still, it swung in rapt attention at her. Then, to her surprise, she noticed that it was attached to her. Tom's flat stomach and chest shocked her the most. Then, she noticed how rough her skin felt. Instead of the soft tones of her skin, her rough, calloused hands found a rougher skin. She lept to her feet, looking for the full length mirror, but an inner memory knew that there was none, and sent her to a smaller mirror on the wall. Sure enough, Tom's handsome features stared back at her. She glanced down, and saw that Tom's prick still begged attention. She touched the head, and watched as it jumped in expectation at the hand. When it finally touched, she smiled at the sensation of the other appendage. She gripped it, and then released it quickly as another sensation - this time one of pain - shot through her.
"This is better than my dildos," she said, and Tom's voice sounded erie to her ears. Suddenly, she seemed to remember something, although she knew it wasn't one of her memories. Akin to deja vu, she walked towards the bed once more. She reached underneath, and pulled out a magazine. Her prick jumped once more. She leafed through the magazine, and saw women in various stages of fucking. Women fucking men, women fucking women, and even women alone. Her prick screamed attention. And, unlike what she was used to, she found it hard (no pun intended) not to continue stroking it.
