Lost in London - Sex Stories

Lost in London

... the tight bra straps stretch a bit, uncomfortably digging into my soft back, as a wave of understanding washed over me, forming an unspoken kinship between me and every woman on Earth. I held my arms out in front of me, watching intently as the motion squeezed my new chest, pushing the round creamy tops of London's caramel colored cleavage against the inside of my shirt. I turned my palms over, and the short, brown arms that had once belonged to London tracked my movement perfectly. I really was inside her body.

"This is incredible!" London gasped in my deep voice. My focus broken, I glanced up at her, watching with amusement as she raked my hands up and down her flat chest. My body was tall and lean, with a noticeable amount of muscular definition visible through my outfit. My round face felt hot and I began to blush a bit (I was suddenly thankful for the shade of my new skin) as I realized how attracted she'd been to me this whole time. id denied it for weeks, but now, as I stared at myself through her soft, dark eyes, I knew firsthand how handsome she really found me.

"I'll be right back!" I said, suddenly climbing off the bed. I took a few experimental steps, allowing myself to acclimate to my new center of balance. My new bodyweight shifted in ways I'd never imagined as I walked towards the bathroom. My wide hips swayed beneath my skirt and my chest bounced lightly within the confines of London's bra with each step. I, unaccustomed to wearing skirts, felt ...

... incredibly exposed. As I passed a floor vent, a cool, silent stream of air wafted between my legs, aerating the cotton panty-encased womanhood I now possessed. An unconscious, thrilling surge of excitement rippled through my small frame at the sudden recognition of the vacancy between my legs.

As I made it to the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror and paused to admire my new reflection. There, standing opposite me in the mirror, was London. It was unmistakably London. Except it was me? I was her? This still didn't feel real. I began to gingerly poke and prod my face, pinching the wide bridge of my nose and tracing my soft, plump lips. The subtle, salty taste of London's fingertips confirmed to me that this was, in fact, real life. I was inside her body, and I could see hear, smell, taste and feel everything she could. As I pondered my new features, I considered the fact that I had swapped races, in addition to sexes, with my friend. I was inside the body of a black woman, and I'd inherited all the physical traits and proportions that came with it.

I grasped the hem of my shirt and slowly lifted it upwards, peeling it off my volptuous torso. My vision was obscured for a moment, as I fiddled with the shirt, trying to get London's curly hair (which was currently pulled into a tight bun on the top of my head) through the neck hole. When I finally got myself free, I dropped the shirt on the ground, revealing the sight of London's exposed upper body clad only in a bra. I gently ...