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I’d heard of this happening. Only biological women had been affected by the “the change”. Transgender women, on hormone therapy or surgically corrected, were just as they had been. It was as new a world for them as it was for the men they’d been born as. A lot of guys changed their views on dating a transgender woman after realizing they were now the weaker gender and not being able to take it. Apparently, Trevor was man enough to get into Pudge’s bed, but not man enough to stay there. The Neanderthal Code still applied, even in a new world. “Maybe I should have a ‘talk’ with Trevor.”
Pudge came from the same small industrial town I did and understood immediately what I meant by a “talk”. “Don’t bother,” Pudge said, “I don’t think he could do much talking right now. I’m pretty sure I broke his fucking jaw.” She went on to explain, that she had become emotional, obviously, at the waterfront bar down at the square. She had said something to Trevor that she probably meant. He’d told her to “calm down”. I’m pretty sure that was the last thing I’d said to Nadia during that fight last Summer before she went out back and, apparently, jackhammered our retaining wall. Things got heated, and Pudge insulted what was left of Trevor’s manhood. He’d lost his temper and took a swing at her like the bitch he apparently was.
Now, Pudge, pubescent growth spurt aside, was an Olympic-caliber athlete. She could have ducked most clumsy punches before “the change”. As it stood now, she’d, apparently, side stepped Trevor’s fist like he was moving in slow motion, and she put hers squarely on his mandible. Trevor dropped like Joe Frazier. Pudge went on to explain that Trevor’s new “girl” was there expecting to meet him. The girl screamed and attacked Pudge. Again, this was no fight between equals. Pudge explained that she’d taken the girl by the collar, and dragged the helpless thing to the water’s edge, and tossed her in like she weighed nothing. Trevor, Pudge explained was out cold with his new love floating in the Gulf of Mexico when Pudge left the bar. “I told them he’d get the bill.”
I guess the Neanderthal Code needed rewriting.
Telling the story, with its physical comedy overtones, seemed cathartic for Pudge, but there were practicalities to work out. “I am done with him, but now I’m stuck her in Key West. I’ve nowhere to stay. I can move my flight up, but that won’t be until morning. I’ve just been barhopping since sunset” Pudge said. Sipping another tequila. I had no doubt she’s been drinking at this rate since then — maybe four hours. Great.
“Stay with us, Jules. There’s plenty of empty rooms at the house,” Nadia was always a take-charge sort, “We’ll go get your things from Shitbag’s hotel.” Nadia looked at me. Not that I would have argued. I couldn’t have left Pudge out in the wind and shown my face at her mom’s again, but Nadia’s tone made it clear it was a done deal. Pudge had been drinking since that unfortunate sunset. Alcohol didn’t impact women as strongly as it once did, but the cumulative effect was obvious. Someone needed to save Pudge, and that was us.
“Roomies again,” Pudge said with a wry smile clinking her glass to Nadia’s, “Except now we have Dingus around to do the dishes full time.” There old apartment housed piles of dirty dishes that I couldn’t stand and ended up washing every time I was there. Pudge turned to Nadia and they collapsed into giggles. “Bathroom?” With a nod the ladies were off.
This was a hiccup, I thought. Having Pudge around wasn’t going to sink my plans, but it would probably alter them. It might take some weight off as well. Nadia and I would be having a lot of sex, and it was obvious I was going to need more recovery time between throws than she would. Nursing Pudge’s emotional wounds would provide Nadia with some distraction while I rested. Coming across Pudge was probably going make things easier for me, I thought. I was 100 percent wrong about that, but for now, it was fine.
As I waited at the table for them to return, an obviously intoxicated college-aged girl wobbled by. She was cute, and petite. She was rail thin, wearing the tight minidress that was the uniform of the night. Her top had a plunging neckline, but there wasn’t much cleavage to reveal. No bra needed for these A-cups, but her pert nipples were obvious through the sheer dress top. Seeing me sitting alone, she sat down, and poured herself a drink from the dwindling bottle on the table. “You are a cute for an older guy,” she slurred, “too cute to be here by yourself.”
“I’m here with my wi- ” I was cut off, and she was on me. With the lightning speed that I was beginning to realize was now a common trait of the fairer sex, she was on my lap straddling me. She twisted and put me effortlessly onto my back on the velvet padded bench. She drove me into the bench with surprising force — it would be some time before I got used to the amount of power even a smallish woman could generate. I raised my hands to push her off, eryaman rus escort but she grabbed them both with hers and pinned them over my head while entwining my legs with hers. She brought my hands together and locked both my hands down with one of hers. I was pinned and defenseless in seconds.
The dance music from below was thumping and the place was dark; no one seemed to notice what was happing back in this corner booth. I continued to struggle but was easily outmatched by this sex-crazed coed’s strength. See ran her free hand down to my crotch and deftly undid my pants, all while restraining my meager struggling. She reached into my pants and grabbed my dick. It began to stiffen involuntarily. Goddamn that Viagra. “I like a little struggle, baby,” she said bringing her face to mine while massaging my swelling member, “but fight me too much, and you’ll just get hurt.”
“Shit,” I thought, she’s done this before. This time I am going to get raped. I felt even more helpless than I did tussling with Becky.
The girl, though, hadn’t planned on my guardian angels. Nadia and Pudge returned from the bathroom just in time. From the first glance under the table of Nadia’s heels walking back to the girl being laid out in the floor went by faster than I could register. Pudge had grabbed the girl and thrown her to the floor. Pudge was putting her pent-up rage into her fists when the bouncers – three large women arrived. Nadia waved to the head bouncer – the cooler – one of the few men left in such roles. He recognized her immediately, they had a brief conversation, and he signaled the bouncers to escort the skinny girl out.
Nadia came over to me. “Are you okay?” She said as I fixed my ruffled and undone clothes, “I’m sorry we were gone so long. Apparently, this sort of thing has been happening a lot. Young girls with fake ID’s sneak in and look for vulnerable guys to satisfy their urges.” It was the first time I’d ever thought of myself and “vulnerable” and the first time my wife had ever referred to me that way. We both knew it was true. Hearing it out loud made it real, but it had already been true. Nadia put a point on it, “Do you want to go?”
I didn’t want to go. I was just going to have to learn to be more careful. I also didn’t want to ruin our evening or make poor Pudge’s worse. I was hurting a bit from being roughed up, but put a brave face on it, “Are you kidding, I’m fine.” I took hold of the tequila bottle on the table, poured another shot. Pudge walked over to the table, fixing her dress. “My savior!” I raised the shot glass in mocking honor and drank it to the smiling blonde.
I guess maybe we should just pitch that Neanderthal code altogether.
“Are you bitches ready to dance or what?” Pudge shouted.
“Fuck yeah!” Nadia yelled in reply. She poured us a round, handed, one to Pudge, turned her back to me for a second and then handed one to me. We toasted and drank.
I’d noticed a marked change in the two of them since the tussle with my attacker. I thought it might be the adrenaline, but there was something else to it. Nadia grabbed my hand and pulled to standing right next to her. That was when I caught her glassy eyes and wide pupils. I looked at Pudge and saw the same. “What did you do?” I asked.
“I saved your wimpy ass, sport!” The shout came from Pudge, deliberately misunderstanding my question as she grabbed the tequila bottle and chugged the remainder straight from the neck. Then threw it to a shattering demise against the wall behind the booth.
I turned back to Nadia. “We dropped some X in the bathroom,” there was a pause while Pudge let out a primal wail, “A lot of X,”she added, almost unnecessarily. I started to say something, but Nadia pulled me toward herself, wrapped her arms around me, and put her mouth to mine. It was, readers, one of the top ten kisses of my life. It was long and warm and wet. She pressed my body into hers. It was hard to breathe, but in a good way. Like that moment at the top of a rollercoaster hill. I grabbed that amazing ass; my dick suddenly was blue steel against her toned thigh. She broke the kiss, locked eyes with me and said, “And I just put a dose in your shot. A safe dose.”
By “safe dose” I knew she meant less than half — probably a quarter – of what her and Pudge had taken. For once my male ego took the implication that my weaker male constitution couldn’t handle what their stronger female metabolisms could take easily in stride. Nadia was very conscious of the dangers of men and women doing any kind of illicit drugs together. She was right to be cautious. It was one of the first dangers noted after “the change”. Women’s new physiologies gave them much higher tolerance for all kinds of intoxicants. In the early days after the change, a woman might share drugs that were about powerful enough to give her a buzz with a man only to find it a fatal dose for the man.
The other dangers were not issues for me, but certainly killed a few guys — mostly assholes. Drugs like Angel Dust could make ankara etimesgut escort bayan a man aggressive and leave him overestimating his strength. A bunch of these dickheads left this world after forcing a woman to defend herself only for the man to find that his drug-imagined strength was no match for the woman’s real strength. The cops called it “Suicide by Girlfriend”. Some guys also tried steroids to match muscle with women. Injections and oral supplements were pissing in the wind compared to the effects of “the change”. These assholes would up the dose until their hearts exploded or, in a roid-rage-fueled fit of misogyny, crossed the wrong girl.
Still, I was beginning to get the impression Nadia had given me a pretty strong dose. She also didn’t know I was hopped up on amphetamines, Viagra, and whatever other things my homeopath friend had given me that he said could improve male stamina and sexual performance. I could feel the effects of the drug take hold.
We hit the dance floor. And. It. Was. On.
The dance floor was crowded and sexually charged. It was, no surprise to me even then, mostly women mashing and grinding their bodies together. There were a few men. Most were like me, there with a wife or girlfriend. I think in a few cases there with a wife and the wife’s girlfriend. As Nadia had told me, a lot of women were turning to other women for sexual gratification. It wasn’t that they were lesbians, per se, but rather that they needed more of a sexual outlet than a man could physically provide. The men, I guess, just accepted the situation as necessary to save their marriages. These men stayed close to their women — for protection. After my experience alone in the booth, I couldn’t blame them.
There were other, less fortunate, guys too. Some found themselves out there as result of drunken bravado. Others, I think, were just woman-handled onto the floor after being snatched away forcibly from the small groups of men crowded together near the bars. Both categories were having a time of it on the dance floor. I saw one guy get forced to his knees by a woman who straddled his face and grinded him stupid. Another I saw another dude get fucked into unconsciousness in a corner by a woman who passed his spent form to another girl who pressed him back into the corner and started in on his limp body. Needless to say, I stayed close to Nadia and Pudge. Not that I fared much better in the end.
The music, the drugs, and the sexual energy had the three of us enraptured.
Nadia was grinding on me. I was grinding on her. She was grinding on Pudge. Pudge was grinding on me. It was an overcharged, drug fueled, thumping rave. And we were right in the middle of it. I think I had a boner for two straight hours. We were all getting steadily hornier. It was a recipe for bad things that felt good. And dinner was soon served.
The music changed to one I knew to be a dance mix of a song that was the anthem of Pudge and Nadia’s girl-nation apartment back in grad school. The thumping arrangement soon found them grinding on each other like there was no tomorrow. I was pushed away for a second and took in the sight of these two demigoddesses going at it. The boner in my pants surged to a raging steely missile in my awe of them. I bumped on a woman dancing with another behind me. I failed to send the danger as the women started to envelope me between them. I felt something grab my hand. It was Nadia. She pulled my hand and dragged me into herself. She sealed me in an embrace against her strong body and locked me in another top-ten kiss. I thought I would explode in my pants right there.
Nadia broke the kiss and spun me effortlessly between her and Pudge. I was facing Pudge with Nadia pressing behind me. I wrapped one arm behind me and reached into Nadia’s minidress and started to finger her through her silken panties. Pudge pressed her body into mine. Her skin was warm and soft, but the body under it was rock-solid — it felt amazing. She couldn’t have missed the wood pressing into her nether – and didn’t judging from how she repositioned herself for a desired maximum effect. Nadia put her arms over my shoulders and onto Pudge’s head and brought it forward. I was caught surprised, but Pudge wasn’t. Our mouths met, and Pudge’s tongue plunged into mine. Both girls pressed forward as Pudge’s tongue worked over my mouth. My arm behind me was now trapped, but Nadia took matters unto herself, grinding against my trapped hand. I tried to press Pudge’s tongue with mine, but only found yet another of my muscles to be no match for a woman’s.
The pressure between these two powerful bodies was becoming both crushing and sensuously overwhelming. Pudge’s kissing and grinding would soon reach an embarrassing – and messy – conclusion if I didn’t lighten things up. I tensed and tried to push Pudge away with my free hand. Yeah. I might as well have been trapped in a hydraulic press for all my laughably weak muscles could do against these two. Pudge just snatched my pressing hand with her own, forced gölbaşı rus escort bayan it down, squeezed it to her chiseled ass, then reached forward to do the same to Nadia’s. I resisted in an effort to not blow my load right there on the dance floor by tensing from my jaw to my compacted abdomen.
I was getting so close. I struggled to make words but had to try to stop this. “P-Pudge Na- Nadia, oh god, stop, oh god, Nadia… I’m gonna…” My words had no effect. Pudge was too caught up in her drug spurred lust. I could feel my orgasm build in my balls. I did everything I could to stop it. My whole body’s effort had been useless against Nadia’s mouth. That I could do any better versus twice that sexual energy was folly, but I had to try.
Nadia sensed it. She brought her head down alongside my ear. She gave my earlobe a nibble and I heard her pant, “You can’t hold it. Don’t even try, little man.” That was all it took. Cum blasted into my underwear. I convulsed with orgasmic fury. The grind must have been having its own effect on Pudge as she peaked a few seconds later. She broke our kiss and pressed even harder into the Simon sandwich as I could feel cum still pumping through my shaft. She convulsed with her own orgasm, as her head passed my shoulder and her lips met Nadia’s.
Nadia continued the grind against my still trapped hand while her lips and tongue danced with Pudge’s. They both continued to mindlessly crush me between their relentlessly firm bodies. Nadia reached her own orgasm and squeezed herself against me. I tried to yell but lacked the air. Nadia came with a frightening violence. Her body bucked and convulsed against mine. The gesticulations came with enough force that I should have been thrown across the dance floor. As it was, with Pudge and Nadia locked around me in a rapturous kiss, the irresistible force of Nadia’s orgasmic convulsions only served to throw me into the immovable object of Pudge’s muscular body. Nadia let out a primal sound of sublime pleasure.
It was the last thing I heard before I passed out.
I came to during the car ride home. I was by the window, Nadia next to me, and Pudge hanging it the far window yelling at people as we passed. I opened my mouth to speak, but it was so dry I could barely make words. The X. It was dehydration from the X – that would explain my sweat soaked clothes.
Nadia and Pudge seemed fine. It was somewhere past 1am and they looked like they were just hitting the first bar of the evening. The speed and strength that women developed after “the change” was amazing. Their new levels of intelligence and speed of thought, while less visible, were also impressive. Nothing, though, amazed me more than their body’s ability to just go on and on. Their new ability to exert themselves for so long without tiring was one thing, but the way they could handle drugs and alcohol was just unfathomable. I’d be dead twice over from what I’d seen these two consume tonight — once from alcohol poisoning and once from an MDMA overdose. The other effects of the change aside, male physiology was a full tier behind what female physiology had become.
“Water,” I said in a raspy whisper. I said it again, this time louder. Nadia realized what I was saying and handed me a liter bottle of water she must have grabbed on the way out of the club. I downed the whole thing. By the time we got halfway to the house I was feeling more human. I realized we were father from home than I thought we’d gone to get to the club. I looked to the floor and saw a small overnight bag monogramed with “JAM”. We must have gone to Pudge’s hotel for her things. Christ how long was I out?
Pudge had worked her way back into her seat, saw that I was recovering. “Hey, look who’s back. It’s Captain Sticky Pants, defender of spent seed and champion of blown loads” she crawled over Nadia and dropped on my lap facing me. She started grinding like she was dancing to some unheard beat. My cock had just started to swell when she started a fake, over-acted panting. Then she started to yell mockingly, “Oh gawd, oh gawd, Nadia, help me, help me, I’m gonna, I’m gonna – KABOOM!” She threw her hands dramatically in the air in a pantomime of my exploding dick. She then shook comically and slumped over feigning unconsciousness. She opened one eye and caught both of Nadia’s. They both cracked up. I laughed a bit at my own expense. I was playing along, but I was a little embarrassed — and more than a little shocked – at how they’d overwhelmed me on the dance floor.
I knew from our talk a few weeks back that there was no way Nadia was satiated. It soon became clear neither was Pudge. She brought herself back up upon my lap. She hiked up the taut skit of her minidress exposing a pair of silky red panties. She started grinding again. She leaned in close to me, her face close enough that I could smell the tequila and faint hint of lime on her breath. “Oh, Simple Simon, let me taste your wares.” She put her lips to mine and gave me a deep wet kiss. This time, my tongue went into her mouth, almost out of reflex. My cock was now fully hard against the wetness inside my eponymous “sticky pants”. My actual brain took over from the little brain between my legs for a second and thought of Nadia sitting right there. Shit. What happened on the dance floor was one thing. This is different and maybe not okay.
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