April 21, 2008

Growing a Penis


In my fever last week, I dreamed I had a penis.

I didn’t have a cock, strange as that sounds. I had a penis. As part of the plot of my dream (yeah, it's always important for your dreams to have coherent plots), I was taking medication, and I called the doctor to ask if this was some sort of side effect. The harried doctor said that yes, some people had the unfortunate side effect of growing a penis, and that if I wanted to, I could book a removal procedure.

How bizarre, I thought, that nobody had mentioned this effect to me. I even checked the pill bottle to see if "penis" was one of the possible side effects. Nope.

I decided not to book a removal procedure until after I had a chance to try out my new toy. But the funniest part was that I realized, while I was sliding into jeans that didn’t fit properly, that I’d now have a chance to do actual research on what life with a penis was like. Perfect for a sequel to Tiffany Twisted. My dream was quite similar to the description in my book:


Tiffany looked down at her body again, naked, still half-aroused. Curiously, she put one hand between her legs, softly touching herself, and instantaneously she felt that part of Kurt’s body spring forward, almost as if it were expecting her to stroke its powerful length. Almost as if it knew she would.

Down boy, she thought, remembering waking up next to Kurt in the morning. He was always ready for a dawn lovemaking session, no matter how early the hour, no matter how late they’d gone to bed the previous evening. “You want to?” was his standard morning greeting. Now, she knew exactly what it felt like to have something so insistent between her legs.

Without thinking, she made a firm fist around Kurt’s erection. The corresponding pleasure felt like a low, powerful hum that ran throughout her entire body. Was this thing ever sensitive! She continued her explorations cautiously, moving her hand along the delicate skin, up the shaft to the bulbous head, learning as she went. Of course, she knew what she liked in bed, and up until now she’d thought she knew what Kurt liked. Over their four years together, she’d had her way with this part of Kurt’s anatomy many times, and he’d always seemed pleased by any attention she gave him. But the experience of being on the inside of his body made things totally different. It was as if a little voice in her head was pushing her forward, telling her exactly what to do next.

Rather quickly she discovered that the slightest bit of pressure went a long way on the road to pleasure. When she squeezed her fist even a tiny bit tighter, she had to lean back against Kurt’s pillows, overpowered by the sensations that ran through her. In this more comfortable pose, she continued caressing herself with more determination. She did all of this without any advanced planning. Kurt’s body seemed to demand the treatment she was giving it; who was she to deny what it so obviously craved?

As her heart began to race faster, she started to pick up the speed with her fist, holding on a tighter, giving herself little intermittent squeezes. Here was something Kurt had tried to explain to her in the past, telling her that she didn’t have to be afraid of his cock, or of touching him with more force as their encounters progressed. But he’d never been able to describe how it felt—not that she’d quizzed him that often. Fleetingly, she wondered why she hadn’t. Wouldn’t he have been charmed by her natural curiosity as to what pleasure felt like from a male point of view?

The excitement continued to build rapidly as she cruised her hand up and down the shaft of his cock. Oh, yes, she thought. That was right. That was unbelievable. Her hand seemed to know exactly what to do, and she could feel this body urging her onward. Don’t stop, that voice told her. Don’t stop—

Her fingers tightened, her palm slid up and down, faster, faster. She thought of making love to Kurt. She thought of kissing him, of having him kiss her. She thought of the time that they’d had sex in the back of his truck, out by the Marina, the cool air rushing over their bodies, the sound of the surf lapping at the shore. He had spread a blanket beneath them, taking her on the roughness of the fabric, pressing so hard on her that she could feel the cool metal of the truck bed beneath—

Climaxing happened unexpectedly. Tiffany cried out as the wetness met her fingertips, and her entire body was wracked with spasms. She could feel the blissful waves of release work through her, and she felt contentment immediately replace that sensation of impending pleasure.

Oh, god, that was good.

For several seconds, she lay there in a state of post-orgasmic delirium, breathing hard, feeling giddy with what she’d just done. Not so bad for a girl, she thought to herself, mildly puffed up with pride. Who’d have thought she’d be able to master the controls of this body so quickly? Sure, she’d been with a few different guys, but this was different. This was learning to give a hand job from the inside out.


I don’t know why I had that dream—or what the dream meant. But I do know that my days of writing body-switching porn are far from over. You can have too much fun slip-sliding into someone else’s body. I swear.

Now, slip-slide over to Trollop Salon for a saucy selection from Kristina Lloyd. And remember to comment on her interview for a chance to win a plethora of prizes.

XXX,
Alison

3 comments:

Smut Girl said...

I do not know if I would want to grow a penis. Maybe in a pot. Not sure. I'm more of a fan of being on the receiving end of the penis.

Hmm. Must shut up now.
XOXO
S

Niall said...

I've totally had this fantasy. Especially to do with what he'd learn about me.

Angell said...

WOW - very intersting dream. I must say, it would definately be an interesting experience.

Talk about your in depth research :P