Lake Otherlife, Part 11: Catharsis (Patreon)

The last chapter of the story is here! The story will have its final conclusion with an epilogue in two weeks, and then a poll for the next TG story begins! Hope you enjoy.

A visit to a mysterious outback lake results in a big change for George and Holly, who are already undergoing relationship troubles of their own. Now, with their genders and lives utterly altered, will their romance last?

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Lake Otherlife, Part 11: Catharsis

George:

What the hell was I doing? This was loco! My heart beat heavily in my chest as I gave another seductive smile at Harry. We were both readying to pay out meals - well, Harry was, he was becoming a real gentleman it seemed - and I couldn’t stop thinking about the words he’d said.

Hey, do you want to get out of here?

It was the line I would have said back when I was George and he was Holly, and it was clear the intent behind them. He wanted me. It hadn’t been hard to tell either. From his constant gaze down at my rising chest to the look of absolute lust in his eyes, I could tell it was taking a herculean effort not to go hard in his pants beneath the table. Something about it felt wonderful, enough to make me shiver in anticipation.

“Very good, Mr O’Neill. I hope you and your wife have a lovely night.”

“Oh, we’re just engaged, but thank you.”

“Well, best of luck for your future wedding!”

My ears pricked at the conversation, and I couldn’t help but think of a very different kind of wedding than the one I’d envisioned long ago. Instead of a dark suit, I was wrapped in a white dress, my cleavage tastefully displayed, my hair perfectly styled, a gorgeous bride-to-be. That particular timeline seemed a lot more possible than when I first recoiled in fear at it over a month ago.

“Dios mio,” I whispered to myself, “what am I thinking?”

Harry took my hand, not noticing the tension within me, or perhaps simply overriding it. He gave a smile that made me shockingly weak at the knees, and motioned me forward.

“Shall we head home, then?” he said, in his baritone voice.

I smiled. Despite my trepidations, despite the fact that a part of me still wanted to take the lead and be the man, my arousal was still growing. I could feel a soft moistness between my legs, and I knew it would be just the start of the damp horniness that overtook me daily. Only, it already seemed like it was stronger.

“Si,” I said in my sexy Spanish voice, “and let’s hurry, too. I am feeling really . . .”

“Really?”

I blushed as we exited onto the street, hanging off his arm

“Really very in love with you,” I finished. I blushed a deeper shade of red. We both knew that ‘love’, in this case, was a euphemism for something altogether more primal.

Harry gave a light chuckle, and pulled me closer to him.

“Well, would you believe I am very in love with you too, dear?”

I couldn’t help but grin, staring up at my tall, handsome man. It was still astonishing to think that he had once been my female partner, with her shorter stature, slim body, and anxious demeanour. And now here I was, almost as anxious as she had ever been. My breasts bobbed heavily on my chest, swaying a little in the cups of my tight, revealing blue dress. Harry’s eyes examined the curves of my body as we walked back to the car, and I could tell he was drinking it in.

I had barely touched any wine, I certainly wasn’t even tipsy. Even still, the spontaneous desire to show off a little came over me. My hips already had a natural sway to them, but I gave them an extra ‘kick’ to the sides as I walked ahead to the car, parting from his side as he fetched the keys, and clutching my purse in front of me with both hands. It had the effect of squeezing my big tits together, giving him a real show.

“Well, are you going to just stare, or are you going to open the door like a good caballero?”

Harry stood there, awestruck, and then he stepped forward, opened the door, and took my offered hand as I got into my seat. I pulled up my dress a little, so it was snug against my big, heavy tetas - it would be very easy to have a wardrobe accident in this, I suspected - and then he closed the door, but not before giving me one last look over.

“Good God, you are good looking.”

“Hurry up and get us home, then,” I said.

I couldn’t believe my daring. I actually wanted him. It was insane, but my body had needs that even masturbation could no longer satisfy.

But I knew it wasn’t too late to put a stop to it.

Holly:

It wasn’t too late to put a stop to it, I knew that. My former boyfriend, my former man, had been doing so well getting acquainted with her new body. In the last month, I had been so proud of both of us. The past six weeks, really. We had managed to communicate once again. I had become more assertive, more decisive in my actions and choices, and had made my voice clear for the first time in years. And Gabriella, for her part, was slowly ditching the toxic alpha male personality she had slowly adopted across our relationship’s span. She was loving her new job, and actively talking about her emotions, and even seeking validation of her own. She let me make decisions, and more than that, we made our decisions together. Gabriella was even dressing like a woman, and while she wouldn’t totally admit it, she was clearly enjoying her body. There was no way she wasn’t showing off those big tits of hers the way she did if she didn’t want me at least a little bit teased by them.

Still, as much as we had both changed and bettered ourselves, it was a different thing entirely to have sex again. We had experienced it only once before in our new bodies. That time, we had been drunk as skunks, and unable to help ourselves. I still remembered how gorgeous she had been, how utterly, helplessly feminine her cries had been as I entered her, and I wanted that desperately again. But what if it only made her regret it, like she had done that time? What if it drove a wedge between us again, just as we’d started to heal?

Those were thoughts I had in my mind as I drove us back home. Occasionally, Gabriella mentioned something about a new place opening up, or some work issue she wasn’t looking forward to after the weekend, but for the most part we were both silent. The tension in the air was obvious. I couldn’t stop taking little peeks at her glorious chest, piled up in her blue dress so that her cleavage was practically up to her clavicle. When we went over a speed bump, her breasts wobbled heavily, causing her to giggle a little as she held the top of her dress up.

“Eyes on the road, pervertido!” she laughed.

“Sorry, they’re just so - so bouncy!”

Another sweet chuckle. God, she had a beautiful voice now. “How do you think I feel, then? They’re so heavy!”

I snorted. “I recall you were quite partial to a pair of bigger boobs when you were a man. In fact, I think once or twice you even said you wished mine were a bit bigger.”

She blushed, touching her cheeks. It was a cute sight. “Oh, don’t remind me! So embarazosa! I didn’t realise how heavy they are, or how much they are constantly moving.”

Even as she set it, they jiggled at little as we shifted. She placed her hands under them for emphasis, smiling sheepishly.

“You know though, I’m starting to think you like them.”

She bit her lip. “Maybe, just a little. They are quite . . . sensitive.”

“I remember.”

A silence sat in the air for a few more moments. I turned off the maint street and down towards our home. I looked at Gabriella again, unbelieving what a sight she was. She looked like she could have been on the front cover of Maxim. Certainly, if the former man ever made a turn at being a model, she’d be a star. She looked so goddamn sexy with her cantaloupe-sized breasts straining against her dress, their teardrop shape evident, flesh slightly spilling out over the cusp. Her slim, delicate waist was perfectly contoured to by her dress, and with its short length, her wonderfully shapely legs were on display. She caught me looking again.

“The road, honey,” she teased, full lips pouting in fake mockery.

I adjusted back, and made our way to our house.

“Gracias,” she said, as I helped her out of her seat and onto her feet. “I’m looking forward to kicking off these heels. I’m still not used to them.”

I gazed at her as she stepped ahead of me, her perfect posterior outlined by her tight dress.

“But they do make your posture a sight to see,” I remarked.

“You mean they make me stick my big tetas out even further?”

“Actually, I was referring to how they make your ass look amazing.”

She grinned, clearly taking it in stride. I couldn’t believe this used to be a proud alpha male of a man. “Well, now I know why you keep lagging behind me despite having such a bigger stride. C’mon, let’s get inside.”

We entered, closing the door behind us, and hit the lights. Gabriella kicked off her heels, and I likewise lost my jacket and shoes as well. We stepped into the main living room together, and I could sense that awkwardness between us once more. The tension so tightly strung it could be severed with a butterknife.

“So,” I said.

“You have nice muscles,” she cut in.

“Huh?”

A little giggle. “Sorry, but it’s true. I was a fit guy before, but you - wow! I’m jealous.”

I flexed a little, and I caught her eyes tracing over my form, lingering around my shoulders. The lake hadn’t just kept us heterosexual with our new forms, but definitely made us attracted to all the regular bits our new genders were. Girls always have a thing about manly shoulders.
“Jealous, or attracted?”

A mischievous grin. “Can it be both?”

She pressed herself closer against me, and my penis hardened. Her body was so wonderfully soft, curvaceous and voluptuous in all the right places, and her sexy accent and cheeky enthusiasm only made me harder still. In mere moments I was almost uncomfortably erect, tenting out my dress trousers. It was impossible not to notice, and she stared.

“Oh, my,” she said.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just -”

“You have it bad for your chica.”

My eyes widened. “Uh, is this the same George?”

“Not George. Gabriella, remember? Just like you’re Harry, not Holly.”

She pressed against me more so, and her magnificent breasts squashed against my arm, her cleavage accepting my forearm. Even through the dress, I could see her nipples were hard. She was breathing heavily.

“Don’t you want this?” she said, as she lowered her hand down to my pants. Her soft fingers glided over the outline of my manhood, and I shivered in response. God, that thing was sensitive. It was throbbing with need.

“I d-do,” I stammered, placing a hand at her cheek and staring into her perfect eyes. “So damn bad. But are you sure about this, Gabriella? I thought you more than me would be afraid -”

“I was. I still am. But I want this, mi amor, I want it more than anything. I’m so fucking hot for you, you have no idea. Or perhaps, given you were a woman, you do.”

“But we have to be strong.”

“We are. We were strong to last a month. Strong enough to choose. I realised it while we were eating dinner, and confirmed it while we drove. I still love you, Harry, and you were right in what you said, that we have come so far together. Let’s go a little further. I want you. Not sex. I want you.”

I searched her eyes, and saw the old George there. He was at peace, a changed man. A changed woman. And I could tell some of that decisiveness remained in her, just as my anxiousness was now present. Funny, how a protective man fusses over his woman, and the woman has to reassure him. In some ways, we had not changed at all, and in other ways, more than we could imagine.

I leaned down and kissed her, deeply and passionately, cradling her soft neck and feeling her thick, curly hair as we moaned together.

“I’ve - wanted - this - all - month!” she cried, as I kissed the nape of her neck. “I was just embarrassed to admit it.”

“Same!” I exclaimed, as she kissed me on my neck as well, on my shoulders, practically biting me in her passion. “I’ve had dreams about you.”

“Me too about you! Such dreams! Dios mio . . . “

“And you’re sure?”

I held her, keeping a slight distance. Her enormous tits were almost spilling out of her top, and her hair was already a little mussed up. One strap of her dress was loose over her shoulder. With every heavy breath, her chest strained at her clothing. She licked her lips, drinking in me in the same way as I was drinking in her. Her eyes halted over the outline of my large cock, which was straining also at my clothing. She licked her lips again.

“Hurry up and fuck me, Harry.”

George:

I couldn’t believe I’d just said that, but I meant every word. My body was on fire with arousal, and I wanted my fiance, my future husband or wife, more than anything. My nipples tensed with desire to be rubbed, to be licked, to be sucked. My pussy was even more needy; it was incredibly moist, and I was rubbing my thighs together in lustful anticipation.

“Okay,” Harry said. In one great swoop he lifted me up into his arms, and I couldn’t help but squeal in delightful surprise. I had often the same when she was Holly, and now I realised how comforting and arousing it was to be carried so easily by a big, tough man. Not to mention, it gave him a great view down my top.

“Like the view?” I asked.

“You have no idea how much.”

“I used to be a man, remember? I’m pretty sure I have a good idea.”

“Well, your boobs are a lot bigger than mine,” she reminded me.

“Mmhm, but you’ve got something bigger than mine, so it all evens out.”

It was a daring thing to say; that monster cock had felt so damn pleasurable back when we were drunk that night, and it felt so perfect in my dreams but it was also very intimidating. But it was the kind of intimidating that made me even further aroused.

“Well, let’s put it to good use then.”

He placed me on the bed and we instantly began making out. We tore off each other’s clothes. I tackled his buttons with all the fury of a thunderstorm, pulling them apart. He, meanwhile, pulled down my dress, exposing my big brown breasts and causing them to sag just slightly down on my frame.

“So fucking big,” he grunted, groping one in a way that made me clench my eyes in response to his touch.

“I kn-know,” I muttered, “I can f-feel it. Don’t s-stop touching them.”

He didn’t, squeezing and groping and grasping my tender orbs, each touch causing me to moan in further pleasure. He tore of his shirt, exposing his muscular frame, and with his help I shimmied fully out of my dress, so that I was just in my panties. He grabbed my soft ass as I pushed my bare chest against his, and we savoured the sensations that followed. The feeling of my bare nipples brushing against his pectoral muscles set off fireworks of bliss inside me. Even my behind was surprisingly erogenous; with each squeeze of my generous cheeks, I became ever more aroused. Soon, I was begging for him to enter me.

“L-lose the pants!” I exclaimed. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me, mi amor.”

He kissed me again, and I held his strong shoulders while he pulled his pants over. His enormous penis was freed from his briefs, and my eyes widened at its length and girth. It was huge! How did it ever manage to fit inside me the first time. And yet, it was enticing to see. I practically salivated at the sight of it - Dios mio I was so damn horny for dicks now. The old me would be repulsed by the new senorita I had become, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I ‘wanted the D’, as they said.

I wanted it bad.

“God, I’ve been wanting this,” he said in his low voice that turned me on so much now. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you ever since you changed.”

“Then hurry up and do it, I’m so damn wet. I’m going to burst if you don’t stick your cock inside me.”

He didn’t need any more permission. We shifted back onto the bed, me breathing heavily in anticipation and fear, both of them intertwined. Gabriella’s anticipation, George’s fear. But the anticipation was bigger.

“Slowly,” I moaned, as he nibbled at my breasts. Each rub of his fingers across my nipples caused miniature orgasms to bloom inside me. He could make me cum so easily just by kneading my perfect globes. “Go slowly. At first.”

“As you wish, my love.”

I spread my legs, a position so uncharacteristic, and yet so utterly natural to this new form. My boobs wobbled mightily as I laid back, head resting on my pillow. My fiancé loomed over me, handsome and masculine and in charge. It turned me on something fierce, and not for the first time I found how pleasing it could be to play the more passive partner. I giggled as he pressed his face against my breasts, but the giggles were cut short as he licked their sensitive areola again.

“Ahhh - OOHhhhhhh f-fuck that is good!”

“You like that?”

“Yes, but I’m impatient! I want your cock! I need it in my pussy!”

He lifted himself up slightly, and kissed me once more. I was in heaven, and then I felt it pressing against my folds. I gasped, eyes widening a moment, still in mid-kiss. There was a moment of brief pain as his girth parted me, and then his immensity entered, and the gasping became more of an extended cry.

“Oohhhhhh s-slowly, s-slowly please!”

He said nothing, but eased into my womanly depths slowly. His dick was massive, stretching the walls of my new vagina, causing every nerve to spark with pleasure. It was so damn much, utterly different from the role of a man. I had become the penetrated, instead of the penetrator.

And it was wonderful.

His hard member slid further inside me, reaching all the way to just before my cervix, thankfully. I’d heard that it was painful if it went that far. Instead, my pussy enveloped him, pressing tightly on his cock and causing him to grunt in satisfaction.

“So t-tight, so fucking perfectly tight!” he said.

I shunted my hips a little, extracting another groan from him. “I’m glad. Don’t stop.”

Slowly, we worked into a rhythm, becoming bolder in our movements. The feeling of being thrust into was deeply wonderful, the feeling of being taken. I was submissive to his movements, receptive to his manliness, and yet there was a power to that as well. It was like I was accepting all of my lover, consuming him, drawing his pleasure to ever greater heights. He began to grope my large boob as he thrust faster and faster, and soon we were moaning ever more loudly. I didn’t care how feminine I sounded, in fact, I revelled in it. I was his perfect woman, and he was my perfect man.

He slid in and out of me faster and faster, and he began grasping my ass, squeezing the soft flesh there as his pace increased. I was helpless to him, embracing the orgasm that was building. I wrapped my legs around him tightly, willing him cum.

“I w-want you to - ahhhh - cum inside me! NNggghhh!”

“You do?”

“I do!”

“You could get pregnant!” he said, still thrusting.

I licked my lips. The thought of being with child . . . it wasn’t so bad. Rather alluring actually. The ultimate expression of love. My highly aroused body desired his seed inside me, and I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly. The thought should have terrified me a lot more. Instead . . .

“I d-don’t - mmhhmmm - don’t care! Just d-do it!”

And with that, he tensed, his body going rigid, and he came. His hot, warm semen flooded into me, shooting in my depths, and I wriggled and moaned in pleasure in turn. It wasn’t quite a full orgasm, but I understood now that for women, a full orgasm was not always necessary to draw out pleasure. Not like with a man. It was nicer, actually, to experience pleasure regardless of the climax.

Harry fell on top of me, his head buried in my breasts. After what felt like a minute, after much heavy breathing from both of us, he raised his head and rolled off me, lying on his back beside me.

“That was amazing,” he said.

“Mhmm, it was,” I replied, still luxuriating in the aftermath.

“Did you cum?”

“No, but it was wonderful anyway.”

I rolled over, keeping my thighs together to prevent too much leakage, and lay over him. My breasts squished pleasingly against him, giving him a wonderful view. He, in turn, put his hands over my wonderfully curvy ass.

“I mean it,” I said, reassuring his frustrated expression. “It was maravillosa, mi amor. You remember how it is for girls, don’t you?”

He grinned as he caressed my soft body. “I do, though I kind of like the guy role more.”

I giggled.

“What?”

“It’s just, it’s hard to admit. Embarrassing, really.”

He raised an eyebrow, and I knew I had to say it. And it was embarrassing, but after over six weeks living as Gabriella, I could no longer lie to myself. The act of sex was simply the final thing that clinched it for me.

“I think I like it better as a woman,” I said.

“Feels better, does it?”

I nodded. “Mmm-hmm. And, when I say I like it better, I think I mean that I want to try it.”

“Try it?”

Goddamnit, the damned former female was making me actually have to say it! But I suppose admitting it was the first step.

“Try . . . being a woman. Being Gabriella. See how it works out for me.”

“For the year?”

“For . . . as long as we are happy. How about that?”

His eyes lit up, and I could see he understood. “Well, I’m more than happy to, my love. But only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. After that, I’m sure. Woman or man, so long as I have you.”

We hugged each other tighter, naked and together. I touched his cheek, admiring his manliness, and we kissed deeply and lovingly. We kissed for a long time, the love between us like the sun, shining warmly through our skin and into our cores. When we parted, it felt as if we’d signed an unspoken contract; to see where life would take us as Harry and Gabriella. To use the next year of our lives to determine if we ever wanted to go back.

“You really are goddamn sexy,” he said.

“Look who’s talking.”

I felt a rising hardness against my body, and realising it was his large member slowly springing back into action. Clearly, my new fiancé had a short refractory period. I gave a mischievous smile. Good.

“Let me get cleaned up first,” I said, already becoming more turned on, “and then we can go round two. You can give me my orgasms then.”

“Deal.”

Holly:

We laid together in the aftermath, curling up against one another, Gabriella the little spoon to my big spoon. I stroke her heavy breast in my hand, enjoying the feel of her wonderful bust. She didn’t stop me. Instead, she pressed her wonderful ass against my pelvis. It was very comfortable, thanks to all that delightful padding. We must have done it four times, a personal record for both of us. Maybe if we’d kept more full glasses by the bed, we could have gone more, but we were spent, and we’d both had our fill of climaxes; I had a bite on my shoulder that proved how wild Gabriella’s orgasms could be. And a few nail scratches on my back too.

We had certainly gone at it passionately. It was as if all that pent up frustration, the last little denials over our new roles had finally exploded in an orgy of lustful sex. I had taken the lead, being domineering and aggressive, and my former ‘take charge’ man was gleefully submissive, descending into incoherent Spanish as she was reduced to squirming in orgasm. It was wonderful, and strangely it felt right. Was this what Lake Otherlife intended all along? Neither of us could say. But the act of sex had broken down the last of the barriers between us, and we were drifting closer to sleep together, feeling totally right in the world.

It was out of that wonderful post-coital bliss that a thought bubbled up, one that felt equally as right. Perfect, even. We had come so far, what was one more step.

“Gabriella?” I whispered.

“Mhmm?” she replied, resting peacefully, but aware.

“Let’s get married.”

She turned, shifted so that her large, perfect breasts wobbled heavily, her ass as well. She faced me, her lovely eyes staring deep into mine.

“What, soon?”

“Yes. I don’t care if I’m the husband and you’re the bride. I want to be married to you.”

For a moment I was worried, and then the widest grin imaginable overcame her face. She pulled me close, giggling a little in excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re proposing to me,” she exclaimed.

“So it’s a yes?”

“Yes, you idiot, it’s a yes!”

We kissed, and it was a long one. When we parted, she wiped away her tears, unashamed. My heart fluttered in my chest at this wonderful woman who used to struggle with her feelings, just as I struggled with my assertiveness. In just that one little proposal, we had proven how far we had come.

“By the way,” she said, “I expect a more romantic proposal with a ring in the future. If I’m to be your wife, then I want to be treated like a lady.”

She gave one last smug grin - still in many ways the blokey jokester of a man she used to be - and turned to fall asleep.

I cuddled up against her.

The End . . . until the Epilogue