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From: "Riv"<rivyavtry@myway.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Switched: Mike {RivYavtry} (MF, sci-fi?) 
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Date: Sun, 02 Mar 2008 16:10:03 -0500
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Usual disclaimers about this being a work of imagination, with no
relationship to real people or events.  Please let me know if you like the
story.  (You can comment anonymously via my asstr site -
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rivyavtry/www/) Riv Yavtry

   _______________________________________________ No banners.  No pop-ups.
No kidding.  Make My Way your home on the Web - http://www.myway.com

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<1st attachment, "switch2.txt" begin>

Mike and I had been at school together. He was a good laugh, the life
and soul of the party and had no problems attracting women, but his
relationships never lasted. After a couple of weeks or so, I'd get a
phone call from Mike saying he'd split up with his latest girlfriend
and we'd have a boys night out, have a few drinks and watch a game or
a visceral movie. 

Out of the blue, Mike announced that his company was sending him to
France for six months. At first I got a few postcards and phone
calls, then we drifted out of touch.

A few months later I was doing my weekly shop at the supermarket
when I noticed a familiar figure. I walked up behind him and tapped
him on the shoulder.

"Hi Mike, I didn't know you were back."

Mike practically jumped out of his skin. He turned from the freezer
cabinet he'd been rummaging through, gave me a sheepish smile, then
gave me our customary greeting hug.

"Hi, it's good to see you," he replied.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" asked a husky
French voice from behind me. 

I turned round and there she was. You couldn't really call her
beautiful, but she had that certain something. Perhaps it was the way
she moved, perhaps it was the gleam in her eyes, perhaps it was the
enigmatic smile, perhaps it was the way she seemed to glow, but I
couldn't take my eyes off her.

"This is Marie, my wife. We met in France."

Mike must have told Marie my name, but I was so enraptured that I
missed it. Marie held out a delicate hand, and I took it in mine and
gently squeezed. Something like an electric shock jolted my body

"Anyway, we must dash. We must hook up some time and catch up."

I couldn't believe it. I was Mike's oldest friend and yet I was
being casually dismissed. I stood and watched as the two walked away,
entranced by the way she walked, the gentle swaying of her hips. I
really wanted that woman.

I planned carefully. Mike had been in my house, but didn't know
about my basement. I spent the night down there, forcing myself to
stay awake, to make sure that it was as soundproofed as I thought.
Luckily I didn't live near a railroad or an airport, and the traffic
outside was inaudible. However something was nagging at me, and after
a couple of days the thought broke into my consciousness - smell!
Everyone's house smells different, and yet we're so familiar with the
smell of our own homes that we usually don't recognise that they
smell at all. I drove all the way to a neighbouring town to buy a
lavender air-freshener, just to eliminate the possibility of Mike
catching me buying one in my local supermarket.

A couple of times I steeled myself to go through with it, but
chickened out at the last moment. Then one day I caught a fleeting
glimpse of Marie in town, and I was lost.

In my soundproofed basement, I inserted my ball-gag and cuffed my
ankles to the frame at the bottom. I set the timer to three hours,
cuffed my left wrist to the frame at the top of the bed, pulled the
blindfold down over my eyes then groped with my right hand for the
other cuff. I found it, slipped my wrist into it then pushed it shut
by pressing against the frame. In my immobilised state, all I was
aware of was the silence and the smell of lavender.

I concentrated hard on my imprint of Mike, and suddenly I switched.
Dazed and disoriented, I reached out for support, and found cold,
hard ceramic. My head cleared and I took stock of my situation. I was
in the bathroom. My hair was slightly damp and my body was glowing,
so I guessed I'd just had a shower. My teeth were tingling slightly
so I must have recently brushed them. I was wearing pyjamas.
Excellent! I couldn't have picked a better moment if I'd tried.

I made my way to Mike's bedroom. Marie was already in bed, reading a
book. Her hair looked slightly damp too, so I guessed she'd also had
a shower. I could just make out the top of a nightdress as Marie had
the covers drawn up almost to her armpits.

I got into bed beside Marie, feeling the transition from cool to
warm as I neared her body heat. I could smell her delicious natural
fragrance. I reached over and planted a gentle kiss on the side of
her neck. She flinched.

"No Mike. I'm tired," she rejected me, in a voice full of sadness.
The gleam was missing from her eyes. This wasn't the woman who
enchanted me in the supermarket.

Suddenly everything had gone pear-shaped. I had nearly three hours
to kill. I didn't want to switch back to my own body and spend it
cuffed and blindfolded on a mattress. I didn't want to risk going out
and meeting someone who knew Mike. I suppose I could have watched a
video or something, but I decided to try another tack first.

"Marie, I know I haven't been a very good husband, but you are the
best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you with all my
heart, and it hurts me to see you so unhappy. I can understand you
not wanting to make love to me, but I'd like to share this time with
you doing something special. Will you let me give you a massage?"

I could see Marie concentrating as she tried to decide.

"No sex?" she asked, for reassurance.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Okay," she reluctantly acquiesced. 

I found a large beach towel in Mike's towel drawer, and a bottle of
baby oil in the bathroom. I laid the beach towel on top of the bed
covers.

"Lie on that, on your stomach," I instructed Marie.

Turning away from me, she pulled her nightdress off over her head,
revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath but a pair of blue
bikini-style panties. Without letting me see her breasts, she mounted
the towel and lay on her stomach. I removed my pyjama jacket so as
not to get it oily, but I left the pants on to cover my hard-on.

I smothered my palms with baby oil and began the massage. I started
with her left hand, noting how tense she was when I touched her. I
gently rubbed oil into each finger in turn, then worked my way up to
her wrist and then her elbow. More oil and I worked up her arms,
gently kneading her muscles, until I reached her slender shoulders,
noting the thatch under her arms where she didn't shave. I repeated
the process with her right hand and arm, pacing myself unhurriedly
and making sure I covered every inch.

Next I did Marie's back, kneading the knotted muscles under her
shoulder blades until I felt them relax. I spent quite a while
kneading the exposed parts of her taut, cool, buttocks, making sure I
avoided the crack between them and the heaven it led to. Outer and
inner thighs followed, paying lots of attention to her inner thigh
muscles, then down her smooth, shaved legs, very gentle with the
delicate skin at the back of her knees, then very firm with the
muscles of her slender calves. Lastly I reached her feet and toes,
and repeated the process I'd used on her hands and fingers.

"Turn over," I instructed.

I expected reluctance or even a refusal, but Marie readily complied.
I saw her naked breasts for the first time, generous in proportion
but still with the firmness and tautness of youth. To my surprise, I
noticed the gleam had returned to her eyes.

I started at the top again, with her fingers and hands. When I got
to her chest, I studiously avoided her breasts apart from tracing
their outline with the lightest of touches of my oily fingertips. I
worked my way down past her cute little belly button and narrow waist
until I reached her slightly rounded belly. Skipping the bikinied
area despite the intense heat it seemed to be generating, I massaged
the thighs again, paying particular attention to her deliciously
smooth inner flesh. Deliberately taking my time, I worked my way down
to her feet, and massaged her feet and each individual toe again.

"Perhaps I'm not so tired after all," she breathed at me huskily,
after I had finished.

Resisting the temptation to release a whoop of delight, I reached up
and grasped the sides of her panties. Marie raised her hips into the
air, allowing me to slip the panties down over her legs and remove
them completely. Her pussy was covered with a generous thatch of
hair. I parted Marie's legs and crawled between them. She looked at
me quizzically as I lowered my head to her thatch and kissed it
gently, savouring the musky aroma. I brushed aside the thatch and
parted her pussy lips, probing her with my tongue. She was hot and
moist, and I could feel the hard little glans of her clit. The taste
was fresh and succulent. I gently teased her clit with my tongue,
sometimes brushing it lightly, sometimes licking it hard, sometimes
circling its outline, each time noting the change in her breathing
with her growing arousal.

I slipped a fingertip inside her, she was hot and wet. I added a
second finger and probed deeply inside. After a bit of searching, I
felt a circular area of hard, raised tissue on the front wall of her
pussy and rubbed it gently. Marie squeezed her pussy muscles hard
round my fingers in response. I increased the pressure on Marie's G-
spot, forcing her clit to protrude even further while I continued to
tease it. Marie screamed as her orgasm broke, her pussy contracting
rhythmically round my fingers.

I tore off the pyjama pants, revealing my raging hard-on weeping
drops of pre-cum. I climbed on top of Marie and brutally thrust all
the way in. She was hot and tight but so well lubricated that
penetration wasn't hard. I pistoned in and out a few times then felt
my groin start to tighten. No, it was too soon. But I was unable to
stop the inevitable and my cock was soon throbbing and squirting its
seed into Marie's pussy.

To my surprise, my cock didn't go soft. Marie used the muscles of
her pussy to gently milk and massage my cock and it stayed hard. I
began moving in and out again, this time slowly and deliberately.
Despite having cum so recently, I could feel my desire for this
bewitching woman growing again. On each thrust I made sure to brush
my body against Marie's, gently butting her clit in the process. We
continued like that for ages, our mutual arousal growing slowly but
unhurriedly.

"Now! Fuck me hard," Marie suddenly commanded.

I thrust in brutally, and Marie screamed as orgasm burst over her,
the throbbing and pulsing of her pussy dragging me over the edge too,
firing a second lot of sperm at her cervix.

Such was this woman's enchantment over me that I stayed semi-hard
despite the emptiness of my aching balls, but the rest of my body was
spent. I collapsed on top of Marie, and my cock slid out. But Marie
wasn't finished. She rolled me over onto my back, took my cock in her
mouth, sucking the last of my cum. Releasing me, she licked the
underside of my shaft, tracing it all the way down past my balls to
my perineum. My cock somehow found the wherewithal to become fully
hard again. Marie straddled me, then lowered herself onto my cock.

"Let me do the work this time," she insisted.

Rather than raising and lowering herself, Marie rocked to and fro,
making small circles with her hips. I raised my hands and cupped her
full breasts, both firm yet soft and yielding. I rolled her hard
nipples between my fingers while squeezing the soft flesh, causing
Marie to gasp with pleasure. My own arousal was starting to grow
again, and I instinctively started to push up on each rotation of
Marie's hips. Marie got the message and switched to raising and
lowering herself onto my cock, squeezing her pussy muscles each time.
It was a long time coming, but at last I could feel my groin start to
tighten again.

"I'm nearly there," I warned, taking a hand from Marie's sumptuous
breasts and using the fingers to tease her clit. Suddenly my cock
throbbed and fired a third lot of seed into Marie. I thrust up hard,
and Marie screamed as she joined me in orgasm.

When our orgasms died away, Marie collapsed on top of me. I held her
in my arms and kissed her.

"I love you," I told her in complete honesty.

My cock was definitely lifeless now, and slid out of Marie's pussy.
I could feel chill on my groin and cock where our mingled juices were
drying. I held Marie tightly, as though afraid something might snatch
her away, her breasts crushing against my chest. For a fleeting
moment I was tempted to stay in Mike's body and spend the rest of my
life with this woman, but reality set in as I considered just how
many things could inevitably go wrong.

Suddenly I started. I must have dozed off. Marie was now lying by my
side, with her arms draped over me. Panicking, I looked around until
I saw red lights of an LED clock. Still half an hour to go. I didn't
dare fall asleep again. Aware of an uncomfortable ache in my bladder,
I gently lifted Marie's arms off me. She stirred a little but didn't
wake. I made my way to the bathroom and relieved myself. Using a
washcloth, I cleaned the residue off my groin and sore cock. On the
way back to bed, I put my pyjamas back on. I lay back down next to
Marie and checked the time again. Twenty minutes to go. I took one
last, longing look at Marie's blissfully peaceful face, then forced
myself to relax and concentrate on my real body.

Suddenly I was back, chained to the bed, unable to see or call out,
but aware of a strong smell of lavender. My wrists and ankles felt
sore as though I had been struggling against the cuffs.

I must have dozed off because I woke with a start by the click as
the timer went off and the cuffs binding my wrists sprang open.

A few days later I had a phone call. It was Mike.

"Sorry, I've been a really bad friend. It's all over between me and
Marie. I was wondering if you'd like to go out for a drink tonight?"

That night, over a beer, he told me his side of the story. The
marriage had been going downhill. One day he and Marie had a really
bad fight over nothing at all. In bed that night he had a really
strange dream in which that he was bound and helpless on a bed
somewhere with an overwhelming smell of lavender. When he woke in the
morning, Marie wanted to fuck his brains out but he was still pissed
from the argument and his cock was sore, as though he'd picked up an
infection or something. Marie said she couldn't cope any more, it was
like being married to two different men, and she packed her bags and
went back to France.

"She was like a completely different woman in the morning, but she
accused me of being different! I guess I'll never find the right
woman, will I," he asked ruefully, "I'm not cut out for marriage."

I also felt a pain stabbing through my heart, as I'd hoped to make
love with Marie many more times, and his loss was my loss too.
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