Chapter 4
Dr. Speer said to Mike, "I can't find anything wrong with your physical condition and our psychiatrists cannot find any reason to keep you around the hospital any longer. Besides, your insurance company is starting to get downright fidgety about keeping you here any longer."
Mike laughed, his voice sounding a little shrill to him. "I know what it's like, Doc. Believe me. But I do want to get out of this joint. Not that the hospitality hasn't been great!"
Mike eyed the polar-cold, heavily starched Wendy. The vixen was standing like a statue behind the array of doctors. But merriment-and a bit of sorrow, Mike thought-was in the brilliant green eyes of the redheaded nurse. She was sorry to see such a willing and sexually expert patient leave her life.
And Mike was a little sorry that he had to leave her behind. He thought of the blow job she had given him and how it helped him along the road to recovery. His coordination had improved by leaps and bounds thanks to the flame-haired nurse. She was just the reward he needed to learn control over his son's body.
But life had to go on. Mike idly considered coming back and servicing the fiery nurse. In a way, he pitied her. An icicle on the exterior and a passionate, sexy woman on the inside. Mike shrugged it off. Such were the penalties of her chosen profession.
Mike had the future to look forward to. And Mike seldom looked back. The future was always more exciting, the greater challenge to his talents...." so if you'll just climb into the wheelchair, Miss Collins will take you down to your car. Your ... mother ... is waiting for you, Fred."
Mike didn't miss the implications of Speer's momentary hesitation. The man was warning Mike to play out the role until later.
"Thanks for everything, Doc. But I can walk down. Got two good legs under me, you know."
"Regulations, son, regulations. And I'm sure Miss Collins doesn't mind at all."
Mike thought, She probably wishes she could be fucking me instead of wheeling me around in a goddamn wheelchair!
"Okay. You're still the boss."
Dr. Speer muttered under his breath, "I wonder." Then, in a louder voice, "Be sure to come back for those biweekly checkups until we can be certain everything is going to stay where it belongs."
Mike waved jauntily as Wendy wheeled him down the corridor. He said to the lovely, red-haired beauty, "Sorry to be going so soon. Your therapy was too good, I guess."
Wendy sighed. "Maybe it was. But I'm glad you're going to be up and around. Nurses shouldn't fall for their patients, but sometimes everything gets so built up inside of me, it sort of explodes."
She was silent until they reached the ground floor. Smiling a smile she didn't mean, Wendy told the man-boy, "Go out and give'em hell, tiger!"
Mike grinned and said, "I'll give them more than that. And I'll think of you when I do, doll. You can bet on that!"
Judy Montague walked up then, and Wendy became the epitome of professionalism. "Best wishes for a complete recovery, Fred. Good day, Mrs. Montague." With that, Wendy spun on her heel and walked off, the starched uniform crinkling around her voluptuous body.
Mike stood up and put his arm around Judy's waist. "Well, dear, let's blow this place. Never did like hospitals. Even if they are good for something every now and then."
"Like saving your life, Fred?" Judy asked in a quavering voice.
'Yeah." Mike looked at his wife for a moment, then asked her, "Have you got it all straight in your head now? I'm your husband even though I may be inside Fred's body. Dig?"
"Dig?"
"Sorry, just practicing some of the slang teenagers seem to use."
"You're behind the times, I think." Judy guided the boy who was her husband toward the front door of the hospital. V
"What the hell? I can learn."
As soon as they had climbed into the car, with Mike behind the wheel, Judy told him, "You're legally dead, you know. Mike, I mean. The insurance company came through with a pile of money since it was an accidental death."
"Yeah, the doc told me. That's really great. Nailed those bloodsucking bastards for a bundle, too! Never thought I'd find a way to enjoy the money from my own death. I'm the first guy in history who took it with him!" Mike laughed uproariously as he carefully guided the small car in and out of the mid-day traffic. His skill and reaction time hadn't diminished during his stay in the hospital.
The only thing that bothered him was the weak feeling in his arms and legs. Fred's body would have to be built up to where it had some strength. That dead son of his hadn't really cared about anything but his crummy schoolbooks.
"How much did we really clear off that quarter of a million, doll?" Mike inquired.
"Just that. I decided to take the payments over the next ten years at twenty-five grand a year. Think we can live well enough off that?"
"Damn right we can! And with me working...." Mike's voice trailed off. Why should he work if they had that kind of bread coming in? Two grand a month was a lot of money.
They could just sit back and take it easy!
Judy pointed out just what Mike had been thinking. "You can't really work, Fr ... Mike. You're only seventeen, you know."
"To hell with the nitty-gritty stuff. Let's go out on the town tonight and celebrate me getting out of the hospital! I'm so damned sick and tired of the regurgitated slop they've been forcing down my gullet, I can use a big, thick, juicy and raw steak. I want a steak so rare it'll moo when I stick my fork into it!"
Judy ran a hand through her brown hair to remove the slight wave that had fallen across her forehead. She studied the man in the driver's seat of their car. It looked like her son, even sounded like him with the slight adolescent break in his voice. But there was a power and intensity that was purely her husband's.
Her husband had been dominant; her son had been withdrawing. It was obvious that she'd have to adapt to the new situation.
"So I figure that I can get Fred's body built up into something worthwhile in a month or two. He's got my bone structure, and his muscles haven't started to harden up yet. Maybe some weight lifting for starters. And jogging. Gotta keep up the steam if I want to make you proud of me in the old sack!"
Judy shivered. Fred was about six feet tall and very slender. Mike's old body had been shorter, stockier. To have her son making love to her was something she was finding it hard to accept. Judy sighed. That was another hurtle she'd have to leap over when the time came.
That night, they went to their favorite restaurant. It took a few minutes of hassling with the waiter to convince him that Fred was actually her son. Mike insisted on acting the big man until it occurred to him that they might get thrown out. When he cooled it and let Judy do the talking, she managed to convince everyone that Fred was, indeed, her son and could legally drink as long as she was with him.
"Hell," Mike snarled after the waiter left, "I've been drinking everything from moonshine to Chivas Regal since I was fifteen. I've been drinking longer than that waiter's been alive!"
"Yes, Mike," Judy quietly agreed, "But Fred hasn't. Fred is only seventeen. You're going to have to watch yourself in public."
"You're right, dear. I'm sorry I forgot. But it really pisses me off to have them treating me like I was a kid still wet behind the ears!"
"In the eyes of the insurance company, you still are. And if you're not, we don't have any of that big money coming in."
Mike laughed. "Michael F. Montague is dead and buried. Fingerprints match my Army records, NSA security clearance records, even the coroner was satisfied with my death. They can't possibly stop the payments now."
"But they could try legal action unless we play along. You have to admit that it could get messy."
"Screw'em!" But Mike kept quiet the rest of the evening. He danced as marvelously well as always, spinning Judy across the floor with the flourishes and spins and turns they both so enjoyed.
Laughing, they left. Mike said, sotto voce, "See the way all those guys were staring at you? They think you're a hot piece of ass to have a youngster like me chasing after you like I was."
He pinched his wife on the ass. When she squealed in protest, he added, "And you know what? You are a really hot piece of ass!"
Judy had to smile. Mike was his old incorrigible self. But in Fred's body. That momentarily gave her a pang of guilt. Her son was dead, but her husband lived. If she could have chosen, would she have done it differently? Would she have allowed her son to live while her husband perished?
Judy was confused again and said little on the drive home.
Once back at their house, Mike lifted Judy in his arms and carried her over the threshold. He explained, "It's just like being married again, right? So the groom carries the bride across the threshold like this!"
He puffed slightly when he gently deposited her on the living room sofa. Mike wiped at a bead of sweat that had formed on his forehead, then declared, "And just like a honeymoon, let's have a little roll in the hay, what'ya say to that, sweetheart?"
Judy wanly smiled. "I ... I don't know, Fr ... Mike. It's all so sudden, you in Fred's body and all."
"Nonsense! Still got the same old sex drives I always had. And you sure ought to, also. You haven't been dead and brought back to life like I have!"
"Mike! Stop being so morbid!"
"I'm not being morbid, dearest. I'm being grateful. And that's why I want to fuck that lovely, beautiful, lily-white rear end of yours. You don't know what torture it's been in the hospital, deprived of sexual outlets...." Mike was lying like a rug, but he didn't care. What Judy didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
"No!" Judy's answer was emphatic. "Not yet. Give me time to ... to adjust to all this."
"Fuck that! And I want to fuck you!" Mike made a dive for his wife.
Judy shrieked and managed to elude his clutching fingers by scant inches. Mike vaulted over the sofa and pursued his fleeing mother-wife. He succeeded in trapping her in a corner of the front room.
Mike's slender fingered hands reached out and began to unfasten the zippers along the side of the cobalt blue dress that Judy wore. Her tits bulged up and out of the plunging neckline. He had been ogling his wife's boobs all night long, his mouth watering every time he saw those lovely melon-shaped tits pressing upward out of the tight confines of the silken dress.
The blue dress had clung to her figure as if it had been glued on by static electricity. His hands loved the feel of the aroused nipples poking through the thin, smooth cloth. Judy seldom wore a bra-she was one of the few women he had ever found who could get by without the support. Her boobs were ample, though not monstrous.
Mike didn't care. More than a mouthful was a waste. And he was a great one for conserving such things. Everything else on his lovely wife was in just the right place, in the perfect proportion. His hands glided down her trim belly and hesitated at her slender waist. Her ass flared out invitingly behind to quickly turn to luscious thigh barely concealed by the skimpy dress.
And the sight of Judy's legs made Mike so hard in the crotch that he hurt. Her legs were her most perfect part. He could drink in the symmetry, the slender elegance of her legs all day long. Just watching Judy walk was a big turn on for the now fully erect man.
She wiggled her pert, perky ass just right. And her creamy legs flashed back and forth, trim calves and petite ankles moving like fluid.
When Mike started thinking about the fleecy little triangle nestled between those snow white thighs, his erection told him in no uncertain terms that it would have to be thrust into her oozing, hot and clutching pussy.
As if on their own, Judy's hands drifted down and unzipped Mike trousers. His hard-on snapped out into the dimness of the living room for the woman's growingly lustful attentions. She couldn't help herself. Judy had to reach out and stroke up and down the seven-inch length of dong.
She shivered, both from lust and from indecision. This wasn't her husband's cock. This was her son standing in front of her, lusting madly after her body. And yet it wasn't her son. It was her husband saying and doing all the things she loved best about him.
Finally, it was her body that decided the issue for her. Judy so badly needed the itch deep inside her body attended to, that the brunette no longer cared if the man in front of her was Fred or Mike.
Husband or son, it simply didn't matter.
As long as a man's vibrant, pulsating and throbbingly alive cock was thrust up into her twat!
Mike's clothing seemed to evaporate from his body. Judy was expert at undressing him, and he allowed her full access to his clothing. He was too busy fondling those lovely jugs of hers. He managed to work her filmy dress down to her waist to expose the twin globes of gleaming white flesh to his fullest attentions.
Squeezing and fondling was fun. Especially when Mike gripped the aroused buttons of his wife's nipples between thumb and forefinger. The man could rotate and twist and drive her wild with ecstasy doing that. His palms pressed down into the pillowy bases of her knockers and stimulated her even further.
By the time Mike was completely naked in front of the woman, Judy was gasping for air. Her passions had accelerated her heartbeat to the point where she got her breath in rapid, gasping drafts of air.
Mike took a step backwards and commanded, his voice having the snap of authority if not the precise tone he wanted, "Strip for me! I want to see you completely naked!"
Judy remembered the feel of Mike's hands on her breasts. She remembered the number of times she had performed a strip-tease for her husband. And most of all, she remembered how it made Mike even harder, even more lustful.
Some of the best fuckings she had ever received were after she had performed as sensuously and lasciviously as possible for him. How many times had he told her that she should have been ecdysiast? That her stripping could give even a bronze statue an erection?
Judy spun in a complete pirouette for her husband. The dress swung out from her body and traced a brilliant blue arc in the space around her. Judy carefully began to unfasten the snaps that held her skirt so tightly to her body. The brunette didn't want to just drop the skirt . ... that wouldn't be sexy enough!
And she was beginning to feel really sexy now!
As soon as the snaps were released, she held the skirt together with her hands. She began a slow, sensual dance to the music that Mike had put on the record player. In the dim lighting, it seemed that the shadows played hide and seek with her tits, up and down her slender body, across her throat to plunge deeply toward her crotch where the ultimate in human pleasures hid.
Judy spun around and around slowly releasing the garment. A quick step and she held the dress in front of her. She never bothered with underwear, especially not tonight. If the woman dropped the dress her tits would be exposed. If she raised it to her chin, her fleecy snatch would be the center of attraction for Mike's salacious gaze.
The brunette turned and pulled the dress along with the turn. The silky blue material carefully hid her ass from Mike. As she looked at him over her shoulder, auburn hair cascaded down her back. Judy began to lick her lips, sensuously, with great care and deliberation. She made sure that her husband got the erotic message.
As the tempo of the music built, Judy began to sway her hips from side to side. The blue dress exposed more and more of her well-formed rear end until even the shadowed valley of her crack was betrayed to Mike.
Judy looked back over her shoulder again and turned from the waist. Her tits were out-lined against the faint light entering the living room window. The silhouette revealed her conical tits and the pebble-hard nipple on top. It was slightly upturned and pointed at the ceiling.
Mike felt his cock stiffen even more at the sight. He knew that Judy was ready for anything now.
When a vagrant beam of light wandered across her pussy mound, he caught the faint rainbow coloring of diffraction from a droplet of cunt juice clinging to her pubic hair.
She was oozing out her lust for him from her snatch!
Mike's prick strained and jerked in front of him. He wanted to grab hold of it and jerk off, but that would have been a waste. His wife was giving him a premier performance to welcome him back to the land of the living. And masturbating would not reward her for the show she was giving him.
Unable to stand it any longer, Mike leaped to his feet and crossed the room to take Judy in his arms. He bent over her shoulder and found it surprisingly easy to kiss her upturned lips. The extra three inches of height in his new body made the task far easier than in his older model torso. . His lips crushed down passionately on the brunette's. She hesitated for a moment as if uncertain, then was convinced of his need by the insistent pressure of his tongue against her lips.
His tongue thrust into Judy's mouth and began to frolic in that oral playground. When their tongues collided, they began to caress and fondle each other. Mike's oral member found the underside of his wife's tongue, and he wiggled and swirled it around as fast as he could.
He was rewarded by the increased pressure of Judy's mouth against his.
Mike's hand roved up and down the aroused body of his wife. One hand found her marble-tipped tits. He clutched one firmly in his hand and squeezed. Mike's other hand went immediately to the furry jungle of Judy's pussy mound. The hand exploring her nether regions hesitated but briefly in that jungle before descending.
The pussy lips he found were already rigid with lust. When he thrust a finger into her greased and eager cunt, he thought Judy would come. She moaned and finally broke off their kiss to whisper in his ear, "I need you so badly, Mike! How I've missed you! Fuck me, fuck me as hard and fast as you can! My cunt, oh, my poor neglected little cunt needs you!"
Mike said nothing. He wanted to taste the sweetness of Judy's mouth again. He wanted to taste the heady wine of her saliva. He wanted to fondle her boobs even more, to string her out to the maximum sexual tension possible before fucking her.
Fred's body wasn't used to such lengthy foreplay. While Mike was experienced, his new body wasn't. He felt the tell-tale stirrings in his balls. The hairy sac had tightened to a compressed sphere. The come inside boiled and churned and demanded immediate release. Mike's control was improving, but he knew that he couldn't deny that release very long.
Mike bent Judy forward at her waist and carried her to the floor under his weight. When she was on her hands and knees, Mike reached under her body and spread those satiny smooth, wondrous thighs that he loved so much. Mike sidled closer to his wife's cunt until the hairy thighs and upper legs rubbed against her smooth bottom.
He reached down and guided his cock into the seething pit of his wife's twat. Mike made sure that he was properly aligned, then slammed forward with brutal strength.
Judy screamed out, "AAAAAAIIIEEEEEE!" as the pressure carried Mike's prick full length up her humid, steaming pussy. She was filled with jerking, complete maleness for the first time since the auto wreck. It felt divine having a man's organ buried up in her loins again. Tiny fires of lust that had gently burned, now flared into blazes that would consume her entire body as soon as Mike began to really fuck her with all the power and expertise in his body.
The friction of her husband's monster cock along her tiny cuntal walls would slowly elevate her passions until she could no longer bear it. Her climax would be all the more forceful due to the long time she had gone between the expert fuckings that Mike was fully capable of giving.
Judy would have been surprised at what was going through Mike's brain at that instant. He loved the feel of the heat soaking into his cock. His entire length was bathed in an erotic heat that he found to be indescribable. The pressure from her tight cunt constricted him, made him fear that he would come immediately without giving his wife the pleasurable release of orgasm.
Mike pulled his dong out of Judy's grasping manhole with a lewd sucking noise. Judy started to protest when she felt the broad, purpled head of Mike's prick slip entirely from her frothy cunt. Then, as she felt his hands begin to rotate and knead the meaty asscheeks of her companulate rear, she forgot all about complaining.
He was going to fuck her ass!
Judy moaned low to encourage him. But Mike didn't need any such encouragement because his own passions were driving him onward. He felt the fierce lust inside him. He wanted to fuck into her asshole as hard and fast as he could. He had to!
With his dong properly lubricated for the job, Mike pressed forward until the glans of his cock rested on the anal sphincter. The greedy little guardian of Judy's rear passageway didn't seem to want anything to do with this. It held its puckered lips tightly shut.
Mike began an insistent, irresistible pressure against the recalcitrant muscle with the tip of his lustful pillar of cock. He felt the anus begin to relax and then, as if it said, "To hell with it!", he surged balls deep up Judy's asshole.
Judy gasped out an incoherent "Unnngghhh!" as her body quivered in reaction to taking her husband's seven inches up her rectum.
Mike felt the heat and incredible pressure all along his buried length of prick. He was lost in a world of intense carnal heat and velvety pressure on his staff of manhood. He gripped Judy's slender waist for support, then lifted his body upright.
He was at maximum penetration of his wife's rectum. He began to pull out of her ass slowly, an inch at a time. He felt the skin of his dick resist the retreat. His balls were pulled forward into an even tighter globe. When Mike finally managed to pull out and leave only the very tip of his glans inside Judy's flaming asshole, the man knew that his control was shot to hell.
He could feel the tide of come creeping along his prick. It was a gradual advance, but it would soon reach the point where he couldn't hold it back any longer.
Mike swallowed hard, then began fucking Judy's white, wondrous ass with long, hard and deep strokes. He began with a slow tempo that picked up as his control slipped. The heat from her rectum seeped back along his prick until the man's balls were superheated with lust.
He felt as if his scrotum was a pressure cooker building up for an explosion, And there was only one safety valve on this massive boiler of carnal desire.
The tiny pin-prick hole at the end of his cock expanded slightly in anticipation of ejaculation. Mike's groin turned to jello, and he quivered inside. Then, as he made a particularly long and hard thrust into his wife's ass, he came.
His come spewed forth and creamed her bowels like a berserk fire hose. Mike's cock was fully inside the woman's body. The man's prick bounced and jerked and quivered as it spurt out blast after fiery blast of his jism. Mike's universe became compressed. It was nothing but his loins, his burning, jetting loins. The tons of jism he had stored up erupted in a few fiery bursts, then he was released from the velvet and iron grip of his orgasm.
That somewhat premature climax on his part still ignited an orgasm in his wife's body. When she felt him ram forward, rub his hairy legs against her smooth butt and begin to jet out his white hot seed into her rectum, she climaxed. The fireworks exploded in her belly and rapidly spread throughout her body.
Judy's brain became dazed with lust. A thin veil covered her world as she sailed on the kaleidoscopic winds of ecstasy that Mike had released in her body. The woman wanted nothing more than to soar and revel in the erotic pleasures of her tumultuous orgasm.
But all too soon, she felt the gale force winds begin to abate. She came back to the world of Mike still trying to fuck her rump as hard as he could.
After one more thrust, she felt his cock wither and wilt inside her body. Mike looked down and saw his once-proud prick dribble out of his wife's asshole amid a flood of his jism.
Mike sat down heavily on the floor and propped himself up against the edge of the sofa.
He asked, "Well, have I lost any of the steam, dearest?"
Judy collapsed forward on the soft shag carpeting, then rolled languorously over on to her back and stretched like a contented feline. She told him, "Nope, you're still the same old Mike I remember from before the accident."
Judy suddenly fell silent. Her eyes opened, and she studied the gaunt figure in front of her. This wasn't her husband. It was her son. Her son had just fucked her ass.
And yet it was her husband, it was Mike.
Judy put one hand to her mouth in a gesture of uncertainty, then rose to her feet and ran off to the bedroom, crying.
It was so confusing!
Was that Mike or was it her son? "Judy!" Mike called.
Judy Montague heard the voice of her son, not her husband, calling out to her.