But Who Am I Really?
Copyright© 2008 by RH Music
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - On his last day of vacation in Ireland, Hugh picks up a beautiful local hitchhiker, Erin. That night, an ancient Irish lullaby has unexpected side-effects and the couple is thrust into a new life which they find strangely wonderful... (a body swap story)
Hugh woke to darkness and warm moist lips on his forehead. He looked up at Erin as her long hair cascaded over them both, lightly brushing against his face and chest.
"Uh..." he struggled to remember where and who he was.
Erin brushed her cheek lightly against his, kissed his ear, and then did the same to the other side.
Hugh looked up at her, He had been dreaming of work and his shoulders had pulled inward with the weight of his concerns.
"Oh, Erin, why are you being so nice to me?" Hugh curled up into a ball, turning away from her. Tears formed and wetly dropped onto the pillows.
"Shushhh" Erin hugged him from behind. After a second she started humming in his ear. The tune was exotic and haunting. Hugh gradually calmed down and he turned towards her with wet eyes.
Erin brushed her fingers over his face, wiping away the tears. "This is a very special Gaelic song, very old." She began it again, no words, just notes. After a second, Hugh felt the song work its way in, and soon he found himself singing it too, following her lead. Although he had just heard it, it came so naturally - like he had known it since birth.
Erin leaned forward and brushed her lips against his and Hugh responded, as they both continued to sing. Hugh was enraptured by the song and her eyes. He looked up and cradled her face in his hands and she did the same with his. Their motions were in synch, like their singing, as he explored her face and she explored his.
Hugh felt more content and trusting than he had ever felt in his entire life. The song they were singing and their synchronized motions made him hyper-aware of what she was doing to him. He saw through her eyes. He felt with her fingers. As she stroked his chest, Hugh felt what her hands would feel with the light wisps of hairs that grew there. His chest felt what hers would feel, covered with a gauzy linen night shirt, feelings of palms over generous bosoms, lightly stroking a stiff nipple, causing jolts to run through his body.
The two of them hugged tightly, breasts compressed against chest, Hugh felt large hands run down over buttocks, pulling the nightshirt from underneath and then stroking bare flesh and teasing the crevice between. He vividly felt what her hands would feel, as they smoothly traced down a naked back causing goose bumps in its owner, then traced over and under the waistband of the briefs. He felt so clearly the waistband trapping his hand inside and the briefs hugging his hand to a pair of muscular buns that shivered and clenched, trapping the fingers between them.
Hugh and Erin parted slightly, removing fingers which had been stroking in the nooks and crannies and looking deep into each other's eyes. Hugh wondered if Erin wanted to go further. Did she intend to do more than merely comfort a mentally sick and distressed soul?
He looked at her and saw himself from the outside. Fingers worked their way around hips, he felt a hard penis, but was it his hands or hers? The hand stroked, and he enjoying the gasps and sensations he saw flitting across his partner's face. Erin worked her fingers around, and Hugh felt what she was feeling spiritually as well as physically. Somehow, he felt strong fingers work their way between his legs and trace through his pubic hair. He felt a pussy become wet and slick with an intense and growing desire.
The song had brought them to one being. It was now just barely whispered, but whispered together, and yet it still filled his mind so he could do nothing but follow the song, wherever it would take him, his guide. So complete was this dreamlike state that Hugh lost track of where he was, whose fingers was whose, who owned the penis, who owned the vagina, whose labia was being stroked, whose balls were massaged, and who felt it.
Hugh registered the sensations coming from his fingers. Fingers trapped inside of elastic briefs, fingers stroking a silky penis, a hard and straining penis. These fingers gradually pushed down the briefs, no longer trapped now, fingers and penis in the open air, but fingers still holding, caressing, tracing the veins, tracing the ridge around the glans, causing the owner of the penis to jerk in pleasure, with small gasps.
Hugh watched as strong fingers moved underneath the linen nightshirt, stroking up and down pussy lips, lubricating them, causing his body to tremble. A finger entered, parted the lips, and pushed in deeply. He felt the finger caress vaginal walls, work its way deep inside, and touch places he had never felt before. The thumb on the outside gathered some of the slippery fluids and then worked its way between the folds at the top of the pussy. What had previously been tremors now became convulsions, as his entire body pulled taught and he lost his breath. Hugh watched from outside as he saw himself smile at the manipulations which were wrought, manipulations which Hugh felt (in sympathy?) as if they were coursing through his own body.
Hugh was desperate for more. He got to his knees and worked his way over Erin's body. Only it was Erin who actually rose, and it was Erin who straddled Hugh's body, the nightshirt flowing over them both. It was Erin's body that pushed Hugh onto his back, then reached down, grasped Hugh's penis, lubricated it, and thrust it in deeply, so that the head of the penis hit against her cervix and the clitoris was mashed against his pubic hair. Her body leaned over, hair cascading over them both, and then kissed him deeply, her tongue tasting his saliva, as the two, overcome with single-minded urgency, gradually increased in tempo and pressure, until they pressed frantically together and finally climaxed, first him, and then her.
And it was Erin's body which felt satisfaction and pleasure washing over it, and felt the penis throbbing deep inside as her vagina involuntarily contracted and grasped, squeezing the last drops of semen out, full of sperm that worked its way deep into the unprotected womb.
It was Erin's body, but it was Hugh who felt it.
Hugh woke with his eyes covered and with gentle kisses being planted on his lips. He woke gradually, enjoying the feelings, and then tried to speak.
"Shhh," Hugh heard a whispered voice. He realized that it must be Erin, although her voice was so soft. The whispers continued, "I have a surprise for you. D' ya want to see it?"
Hugh held still and nodded his head.
"OK. Now I want you to take things slowly." The voice was very light, and right next to Hugh's ear. "I don't know exactly how this 'appened, but it's amazing, and I hope you like it." There was a pause. "Ready?"
Hugh nodded again. "OK, now when I remove my hands, don't panic. Just take your time and go slowly." The hand was removed from his eyes.
And Hugh saw himself.
He looked around ... where was the mirror?
But there was no mirror. Hugh took a few deep breaths and reached out a hand and stroked the face before him. He felt stubble. He felt masculine features. He felt short, thick hair.
There was a man, who looked just like Hugh, right there in Hugh's bedroom.
Hugh jerked back, scared. "But ... but..." Hugh stuttered, "who are you? And why do you look like me? This is impossible..."
"I know, but somehow it happened! When I woke up and saw me lying next to me ... I nearly fainted!"
"I ... I don't get it ... yourself next to you? Who was next to you? Who are you?"
The body, which looked like Hugh, breathed a long sigh. "Hugh," it said, "look at your hands."
Hugh held up his hands. They were smooth, thin, and covered with freckles.
"Now here," Hugh flinched as his look alike reached out towards his head. "Please, hold still! I promise I won't hurt you." Hugh shivered a bit but held still. The hand reached out, grabbed some of Hugh's hair, and pulled it in front for his inspection.
The hair was long, wavy and red.
It was Erin's hair.
Hugh looked up, tears in his eyes, frightened and confused. "Please stop!" he cried. "What have you done? I ... I ... Who are you?"
"Hugh," the man said, "please relax. Before anything else, ya must put your faith in me. I'm your spiritual guide, remember? Now, 'old my hand..." The man held out his hand, palm up.
Hugh, now shaking with fright, looked up into the man's face. "What?" He asked, his voice quavering.
"Take my hand," the man said, simply.
Hugh looked into the man's eyes one more time, then reached out and put his delicate, freckled hand into the man's upturned palm. The man closed his hand, and squeezed gently.
"Now, let us get up slowly, and walk to the bathroom mirror." The man helped Hugh out of the bed, and the two of them walked into the bathroom.
When Hugh saw Erin and himself, standing together, holding hands, his first thought was one of relief, since the picture was the way it should be.
"Oh, thank goodness, I ... but..." as Hugh looked closer he gradually saw that something was not right. The wrong person was moving, the wrong lips were talking, and he was looking at himself from the wrong angle.
Hugh looked towards Erin - and saw himself. Then looked back at the mirror, then reached up and touched his face ... he saw the image of Erin touch her face.
"But, what has happened? Who am I? Who are you?"
"Hugh, I am Erin! Somehow, I ended up in your body. Somehow, through some cosmic confusion, you ended up in my body! I dunna understand, but it must have 'appened last night when we were together. You are Hugh. I am Erin. We have swapped bodies."
"Oh ... Oh..." Hugh said as he felt the world slip away.
And then he woke up in bed.
"Hi sleepy head. Didn't get enough sleep earlier? Had to faint on me? You're just lucky I was able to catch ya before ya butt hit the floor!"
Hugh looked up and saw himself, again. Erin smiled at him: "No, it wasn't a dream. It was real. Hi!"
"Hi..." Hugh's voice was uncertain. He looked up at Erin, but saw himself.
"Do I really sound like that?" he asked. It was like he was watching a home video. It looked like him, he knew it was his body, but still it seemed like someone else - and of course, this time, it was.
Hugh reached out and touched Erin's upper arm. He had never felt a man's body so intimately before. Of course, he had felt all parts of his own body, but this was approaching it from the third person, a very different sensation. He reached up and touched her face, the stubble was so coarse, is this what women feel? How can they stand it? He ran his fingers through her short, black hair, then around the ears, over the shoulders and upper arms, and then through the chest hair.
Erin submitted to all of the stroking without moving a muscle. She knew that it would be required in order for Hugh to deeply understand what had happened. But when Hugh tweaked her male nipples, she couldn't help but draw in a breath. "Hold on there lassie, that's sensitive."
"Oh, sorry," Hugh stammered and pulled back.
"It's OK. But here, feel this," Erin took hold of Hugh's feminine hands and then put them on his own feminine face...
... and it was so smooth. Hugh had never felt such smooth skin before. Hugh stroked his face in wonder, no beard, no stray hairs, just completely smooth! And so sensitive ... he wondered if constant shaving had desensitized his own face. 'Is this what women feel?' he thought to himself, curiously, 'but then, they're probably used to it and don't notice.'