Fucking Indian Tight Pussy

As my hand moved down I was prepared for the swerve of hip. I couldn't feel my penis and didn't expect too. I reached up under my short skirt as was relieved to feel my pubic hair. At least there was something between my legs. I could bring myself to touch my new sex, that would have probably overloaded my spinning brain. I had to get out of here, back home, somewhere safe and try to sort out this fuck-up. I reached over and keyed the co-ordinates to my home. "Destination secured in privacy mode. Please select another." Came the cold metallic computer voice. "Shit. She's locked me out." As I said the words to myself, I realized my voice was now Cindy's sexy tones as well. I had to get Jamie to change me back! I punched up my house on the vid-screen, and I was relieved to see Jamie's face come up on the small screen. "Jamie! What have you done! You have to change me back!" I screamed in my new feminine voice. "Umm, do I know you? You just look like some piece of ass my husband was. He already knew that he couldn't do it with any patient connected to him directly, that would just be flat out stupid. But with the proper expertise, if he passed himself off as someone else, in a different place, the sky was the limit. And oh had he been right. Over the past half a dozen years, he'd taken a few trips like the one he was on right now, enjoying anywhere from a couple to more than half a dozen women on each one, and he hadn't been caught yet. He still occasionally enjoyed perversities of other natures, but this had become his comfort zone. He'd turned it into an artform of sorts and mastered it. And while the women he'd been with normally had almost all faded from his memory, he could remember almost every woman he'd been with this way in near crystal clear detail.He liked to choose married women, or at least those in committed relationships, it enhanced the pleasure for him. He didn't outright rape them, he hadn't committed direct forcible rape in a long time. It was.
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