Chris and Me
By Rampant Tiger
A Short Fantasy


Having nothing much to do one sunny summer afternoon, I thought I
would call Chris and Jim, my friends in rural Pottstown, to see 
whether a visit might be in order.  We were good friends, but Jim, 
a retired medical doctor, tended to be a bit pedantic, so 
our visits were usually quite short - pleasant, good-natured, but 
quite short.  Anyway I called, only to be advised that Jim was
ensconced in a local hospital, undergoing a series of tests to
determine the state of his heart, and what could be done about it.
Nothing serious or urgent, except that anything to do with the heart, 
at Jim's somewhat advanced age (he was in his late seventies), was 
always worrisome.  In any case, Chris had been alone in the house and was, 
as she put it, happy to talk to anyone, even me.  So I jumped in the 
car and drove down to their house, to be greeted by Chris in a two-
piece bathing suit.

"Hello, Bob.  I was in the pool when you called, and it's blazing hot out,
so I just stayed in it.  I'm sorry I didn't mention it when I was talk-
ing to you on the phone, so you could have brought your bathing suit 
with you and had a dip too. The water's great and, in this heat, a 
blessed relief.  Possibly you could borrow one of Jim's suits, but I'm 
afraid they would be way, way too big for you.  That's too bad." 

"Hello Chris. That sounds like a great idea, and I haven't had a swim for 
years, so I'd love to go in right now.  In fact, I'd suggest going in just 
in my underwear shorts but, in this heat, I just didn't wear any, so that's 
out.  I'll just sit in the shade with a glass of iced tea and watch you enjoy
yourself in the cool, clear water."

"That's a terrible idea, Bob.  There must be something we can do.  Wait! 
Pearl was here a couple of weeks ago and we went in a few times.  Let me check 
and see if any of her suits are still here.  Pearl's a pretty big lady and her
suits might do for you in a pinch.  Let me look."

Chris went off to search for a suit that I might be able to get into and, as 
she trotted along the hall toward the bedrooms, I got a good look at her  
retreating back.  And I took a good, long look!  I figured Chris was younger 
than Jim, by maybe ten years, and she had taken good care of her figure - 
very good care!  She was tall and slender - not skinny! just slim - and hard 
exercise and long workouts had given her legs good muscles.  In her bare feet, 
going along the hall, her calves flexed and divided, and her hamstrings were 
hard. 

In the two-piece bathing suit she was wearing,  her waist-line was narrow and 
taut, and her shoulders were broad and sloped nicely out to firm triceps -
the result of good genetics, maybe, but great to look at, nonetheless.  And 
I looked.

In just a few minutes, Chris returned carrying a small bundle of cloth. 

"This is the only thing I could find.  It's pretty small, but it may do. 
Try it on anyway.  It's a one piece suit, but you can tie the shoulder 
straps around your waist - if you can get into it.  As I said, Pearl is a 
pretty big woman.  Go into the bathroom and try it on.  I'll wait here to 
see if any adjustments have to be made when you come out."

"OK, Chris,I'll see if it works."  So I went into the bathroom and stripped.
When I slid into Pearl's suit, I found it really was not too bad a fit. It
was tight around my hips, but I'd expected that, and it wasn't so tight as to 
be uncomfortable or to restrict me in any way.  My cock and balls were com-
pressed somewhat, but I could live with that as long as they didn't pop out 
the side, and I didn't think that would happen.  I was about to tie the 
shoulder straps around my waist when I decided to see how they would look
over my shoulders.  So I slid them over my shoulders and straightened up and
they really fitted quite well.  The cups over my breasts were pretty empty,
as you'd expect but, just as a gag, I tightened the straps of the bra until
my breasts were forced out in front, almost filling the cups, and I had 
quite a respectable cleavage.  I suddenly realized that, while I was by no 
means fat, I had plenty of surplus flesh on my chest, and that my breasts
were really quite substantial.  Not as big as Pearl's, maybe, but pretty 
darn close.  My nipples were small but, with the pressure of the bra, 
quite noticeable through the thin material of the bathing suit.  In 
fact, I really looked quite sexy.  I had a pretty good tan, from working 
in the garden in my shorts and most of the hair on my chest was covered by 
the suit so, apart from my hairy legs and my bald head, I looked quite a 
lady as I stepped out of the bathroom.  

Chris took one look at me and burst out laughing.  "Wow, Bob - or should I 
call you Bobby? - you look great!  I didn't realize I had such a sexy-looking 
girl-friend.  You've got a lovely body, Bobby, and I like it, but we'll just 
have to do something about your hairline!  I know.  I have a hairpiece that 
should fit you admirably, and it's even waterproof, so it should stand you 
swimming with it on.  Let's try it."

With that, Chris dashed into her bedroom and came out bearing a wig.  It was 
blonde and cut quite short, and Chris carefully fitted it over my bald head.
It made a startling difference to the way I looked.  I looked about twenty 
years younger and, if I do say so myself, quite sexy.  Chris looked at me 
again, with a critical eye, and said, "Bobby it is, and a good-looking hussy 
you are.  Just one thing more, and I'd be willing to take you to the exercise 
class in the pool in Pottstown with me.  Wow! you're a beauty, Bobby!"

"Chris," I said, grinning, "what IS the one thing that prevents me being the 
girl of your dreams?  We'll have to see if we can't do something about that."

Chris grinned, too. "We CAN do something about it, and we can do it right now.
At least, I can do it, if you've got the nerve for it.  It won't hurt, but 
you'll have to trust me."

"Of course I trust you, Chris. What is it?  Can you do it now?  That is, as 
long as it isn't something permanent.  I'd sure hate it if you were to 
castrate me, but I'm pretty sure that isn't what you have in mind."

"No! It's not that.  But it does involve cutting, and it would be better 
if you stretched out on the diving board.  Then I'll have more freedom to 
work."

"OK, Chris, I said I trust you, so I'll lie out on the diving board and let 
you at it.  Just make sure you don't get the pool all bloody.  I still want 
to go in for a swim."  So I went outside and lay in the sun on my back on the 
diving board.

My eyes were closed against the bright sun, but I could hear Chris rustling 
about in the house.  Then I heard her approach me and a towel was placed 
over my eyes and pinned behind my head.  "That will prevent you getting nosy, 
and interfering with my work." laughed Chris.  And then she spread my legs 
apart and gently began to stroke them.  I tried to sit up, but Chris, roughly
and with a strength I didn't know she possessed, pushed me back down flat.

"You stay there, just like that.  This won't take long."  And the stroking
continued, but now I was aware that Chris was spreading some sort of cream 
on my legs.  The stroking was erotic, and it was only the tightness of the
bathing suit that stopped me from a violent ejaculation that would have
added a massive amount of cream to that Chris was softly applying.  It had 
been years since I'd had an orgasm, and what I was feeling now was an 
excitement that was driving me up the wall, and Chris didn't even seem to be 
aware of the turmoil in my loins.  Then the stroking stopped and, a moment
later, a gentle scraping began.  I realised, belatedly, that my legs were 
being shaved and by someone who knew what they were doing.  With that 
knowledge came release, and the tightness in my penis went away, and I was
glad that I hadn't demonstrated my lack of sexual control to Chris.  In
a minute or two, the scraping stopped, my legs were wiped off with a towel,
and again I almost blew my top.  My complete lack of control over my sexual
organs was embarrassing as hell, and I dearly hoped Chris had not been aware 
of it.  Then firm hands reached over my shoulders and pulled my bathing suit 
straps down to my waist to leave my somewhat hairy chest exposed.  Then came 
some more gentle stroking and more smooth creaming, this time all over my 
chest and armpits. The razor then did its work and my upper body was laid 
bare and hairless, and Chris laughed out loud as she towelled me off.  "My!  
You are a smooth one, Bobby." she grinned, as she tugged the straps of my 
suit back up over my shoulders.

Now, gently, Chris urged me to roll over onto my stomach, and the whole 
performance was repeated, but this time, in my awareness of what was being 
done to me, my control over my emotions was much, much better, and all I 
experienced was a happy excitement and the contentment of subtly rubbing
my cock on the rough covering of the board - and that I could control until,
the job completed, Chris whipped the towel from my eyes.

I sat up on the diving board, and rubbed my eyes, then I looked down at
my lower limbs, my previously hairy lower limbs.  They were smooth as silk
and slick as a whistle, not a hair showing anywhere on them, front or back, 
top or bottom.  I looked at Chris, grinning down at me and sliding her firm 
hands over the smooth skin.  "My goodness!" she grinned, " You now really
look like a real tart.  If I were a young man, I'd have a go at you myself."

I got down from the diving board and swaggered around the pool.  "No! Bobby"
quipped Chris, "That's not the way a lady should walk.  Here now, walk
like this." and Chris slunk along the border of the pool with her hips 
swaying from side to side and her shoulders slithering along with them.
"Now, try it like that."  So I did, and with a few corrections from Chris,
I soon had the walk down Pearl.  With my blonde short hair and my full
firm breasts and my smooth tanned skin, I really looked like a sexy lady 
of the evening - out for an afternoon dip under the protection of her 
adoring boyfriend.  But where was the protecting boyfriend?  That was 
what was needed to make the scenario complete. 

"Chris, all I wanted was an afternoon swim with a person I admired, and now
you've turned me into a sexy lady, pretty and horny and eager for a roll 
in the hay, and my lord and master is nowhere to be found.  What, my wicked 
witch, are you going to do about that?"
   
"Well, Bobby, if I can turn you into a beautiful lady at a swimming pool,  
Maybe I can turn myself into a handsome lifeguard.  What will it take?  I 
know!  What does a lifeguard wear?  A pair of tight-fitting briefs, that
hugs his bottom, and holds his penis and testicles tight against his muscular 
thighs.  And he needs a deep muscular chest and biceps that would rise
into great peaks when he flexes them as he pulls the beautiful girl out
of the depths of the pool.  Well, I don't have a deep, muscular chest and 
you haven't seen any bulging biceps, but I DO have a pair of tight-fitting 
briefs.  How will that do?"

"Great, Chris, all you have to do is strip down to them.  Go ahead!  Do it 
now."

And Chris - now Chris - did.  She untied the strings of the top of her bathing
suit and slid it off her shoulders.  And, unlike me, she needed no further 
modification to fill the part of the handsome lifeguard to utter perfection.
Her body was tanned a deep brown from head to toe, after a hot summer by the 
secluded pool, and there wasn't a strap-line anywhere.  She stepped onto the
diving board I had just been shaved so cleanly on, and turned slowly 
around to show off the hard and divided muscles of her calves and thighs.

"GAD!" I thought, "I had admired the muscles on her calves before, 
but I had never been aware of the valleys of muscle on her thighs and the
striations of her hamstrings.  She really has a great body for a woman in 
her sixties.  NO!  A REALLY great body for a woman in her FORTIES."

Then, just to put the icing on the cake, when her back was right in front 
of me, Chris flexed the muscles on her shoulders and rippled the cords of 
muscle lying across her back.  "How do you like that, Bobby?  Think I've got 
enough muscle to be a proper lifeguard?   And could I carry you in my arms,
in THESE arms, to safety across the beach?  I think I could.  What do you 
think?"  And, with that, Chris flexed her biceps as hard as she could and  
they rose in hard peaks, like baseballs.  I just stood and stared, my 
eyes popping out like golf balls, Then I turned and dived right into the
deep end of the pool.  I had to.  My bathing suit could no longer contain
my massive erection.  Chris grinned and jumped into the water beside me,
knowing full well the reason for my sudden submersion.  We surfaced 
together, and I ducked under the water again and pulled Chris down with 
me, my arms around her waist.  Chris resisted, twisted to face me and, 
with her naked breasts tight against me, put her arms around my chest and 
squeezed.  WHOOSH!  The air went rushing out of my lungs and water went 
rushing in.  I started for the surface, coughing and sputtering, but before 
I got there, Chris grabbed my bathing suit and held me under still longer, 
laughing at my distress as I flailed my arms about desperately.  At last, 
Chris let me go, and then had to haul me to the surface herself, where I 
splashed frantically and coughed my lungs out.  At last, dis-oriented and 
weakened by my ordeal, I just lay back and let Chris tow me to the steps 
and lift me up and carry me, in her now exposedly strong arms, to a waiting 
chaise, where she dropped me and kneeled beside me, laughing.

Chris finally got to her feet, still laughing, and leaned over me.  "Well,
I guess I WOULD make a pretty good lifeguard, after all.  I can swim like 
one, rescue like one, carry a drowning woman like one, and I think I even 
look a bit like one.  Don't you think so, Bobby?"  Chris stood, waiting for 
my reply, above the `woman' she had rescued, then carried in her muscular 
arms to the chaise.  She stood, in tight briefs but otherwise stark naked, 
arms akimbo, chest thrown out over my head, with her whole amazing, sixty-
something physique taut and tense and hard as rock, waiting for me to say 
what I thought.  And what did I think?

"WOW, Chris!  You act like a lifeguard, you swim like one, and you look 
so much like one that you would outshine all of the stars on that Muscle 
Beach TV show.  You're amazing - and you NEVER gave any sign that you were
such a fantastic physical specimen before now - not to me, anyhow.  How does 
Jim feel about your great figure AND your great muscles.  A woman!  And 
what a fantastic woman!  You're in your sixties, I'm sure, and you've got a 
body that would be fantastic on a woman half your age.  NO!  That most MEN 
half your age would envy.  You've got muscles that ripple and peak and
bulge, and you move around like a teen-aged gymnast.  How come Jim isn't
just worn out dead?  Or is he?  Is that really why he's in the hospital?
If it's not, Chris, it should be."

"Why, Bobby, what a nice thing to say.  Sure, I'm proud of my physique and 
I work out a lot to keep it in good shape, but I've never really had much 
occasion to display it.  I've had two kids, and they've both grown up to 
have good, strong builds that they were proud of, and I've never wanted to  
compete with them, so I didn't.  And Jim was married to my daughter for 
so long that he was pretty well worn out sexually before he married me, ten 
years ago.  We got married because we loved each other, not for sex, and 
we didn't really have much of that after our honeymoon.  Really, it was 
only then that I started to work out, partly as a substitute for sex and 
partly because I liked the way my muscles developed.  I liked the way I 
looked, even if nobody else ever saw me, and I liked the way it made every- 
thing I did so much easier.  Jim told you I twisted my ankle hauling a 
load of firewood into the garage, but he didn't tell you the size of the 
load.  It was big.  Our big wheelbarrow was piled to a height of six feet
with hardwood.  Jim couldn't even raise the back legs of it off the 
ground.  I know that because I saw him try to lift about a quarter the load 
when he didn't know I was around and he could barely raise it off the ground,
let alone move it.  I never let on I'd seen him try it, and he never offered 
to help me after that - not that I wanted help.  I twisted my ankle stepping 
sideways on a broken branch, and that was stupid, but it didn't stop my work-  
outs.  And I continued to develop as a closet bodybuilder, until today when 
your gaudy display of feminine sexiness made me quite horny, and made me 
realize what I'd been missing.  The genders may be reversed, but so bloody 
what!   You know what they say - if rape is inevitable, relax and enjoy it -  
and I think, perhaps, rape is what is just about to happen here.  So, Bobby,
relax on that chaise and prepare to be raped, you sexy beauty."  And Chris 
placed her hands on my shoulders and forced me onto my back on the chaise.
                  
I struggled, maybe a bit half-heartedly, but wholly ineffectively in the 
strong grip of my eager, now admittingly powerful, aggressor.  My shoulders 
were flat on the soft chaise bed, and my hands were seized by Chris's, 
and my arms pulled back, up above my head, and then only one of Chris's 
hands was needed to hold me helplessly there.  Chris's other hand
quickly seized the front strap of my bathing suit, the strap holding 
the two cups of my bra together, and with a quick, powerful jerk of her 
wrist, ripped it completely off my chest.  When that happened, my
breasts, relieved of the pressure of the bra straps, flattened out, but 
my nipples, from a combination of the cool water and the erotic touching
stood straight out, hard and erect.  Playfully sliding over my chest,
Chris's free hand now slid inside the bottom of my bathing suit, from the 
rear, and gently slipped it down my legs.  Down and off them altogether, 
leaving me stark naked, helpless, on my back on the chaise.  Chris 
leaned over me and laughed.

"My goodness, Bobby, You look even prettier when you're naked than you do 
in a bathing suit.  Sexier, too.  I thought women your age were not 
really up to getting a hard-on, but you seem to be doing pretty well.  By 
god, lady, you're well hung!  Maybe a little soft at the moment, but I'm
sure we can do something about that.  We've done something about everything
else you wanted, and I don't think this is much different.  Wait a minute.
Don't go away.  I'll be back."  And Chris stood up.  Then just to make sure 
I didn't do anything foolish, Chris took my discarded bathing suit, 
forced my arms under the bed of the chaise, and tied them together.  I  
would stay there, naked and helpless, until she got back.

Chris was back in a few minutes, with a couple of tubes of bright lipstick
in her hand. "OK, Bobby, let's see if these will loosen you up a bit."
and, with that, she started to apply a bright, smooth coat of lipstick on 
my lips.  Finishing, she leaned back to take a critical look at her 
handiwork.  "There.  That looks a lot better.  Now you really look a 
trolloppe. Just a little more, here and there, to complete the picture."
and, with that, she drew two thick red circles around my nipples.

"Good.  Now we can do what we must to get you a little bit harder."  And 
Chris softly stroked her hands over my torso, from the top of my
neck, over my hard, protruding nipples, over my firm rounded belly, 
passing lightly by my penis and testicles, down my silky legs, and slowly 
back up to my penis that was now standing straight up, thick, and hard as 
iron.  In fact, drops of creamy pre-cum were oozing slowly out of the end 
of my massive cock, and Chris leaned over the quivering torso on the chaise
and licked them off with a flickering tongue.  I screamed, in pleasure 
and frustration, as I squirmed helplessly under the ministrations of the
handsome lifeguard who had rescued me from the deeps, carried me to the
chaise, and was now subjecting me to agonizing sexual torture - and was 
gleefully enjoying it.  

"Well, Bobby, you're hard enough now and you're big and thick enough now to
be just as useful as I want you to be.  Let's see how you feel inside me,
you sexy, beautiful, gorgeous hunk of ass.  I think you'll feel pretty good."
So Chris slid off the brief bathing shorts she was wearing and, stark naked,
straddled the hips of the `female' torso on the chaise, the lips of her 
vagina over the head of my turgid, throbbing cock.  Firmly, gently, she 
slid my great, hard penis right inside her cunt, now slippery with thick, 
creamy seminal fluid, right into the `tunnel of love' that led to Chris's 
eagerly throbbing womb, and when it was tight inside, she squeezed and flexed 
the muscles in those vaginal walls, till I cried out in agony, and heaved 
and twisted to escape Chris's powerful sexual embrace - in vain.  My hands 
tied behind me, my cock being erotically milked in a throbbing clamp of 
steel, I just lay and moaned in sexual agony.  I was ready to come, my
powerful ejaculation poised to erupt, but my captor kept a strong, sensitive 
grip on my balls and I could only feel the pain and the surging throbbing 
of the walls of the encapturing cunt, until Chris exploded violently in a 
tremendous orgasm that lifted her right off my sweating belly.

"WOW! That was my first orgasm in almost ten years, and it was bloody won-
derful!  I want to do it again, right now, and I think I can.  I'm sure I 
can, especially if have the help of my beautiful, seductive houri.  You 
will help, won't you, dear.  All you need to do is lie there, like a great 
hot and hollow piece of slippery meat, and let me have all the sexual 
satisfaction I want out of your soft, smooth body.  Since my physique is
so much more masterful, it gives me a massive orgasmic high just to be able 
to take you and screw you and make you my beautiful, sexy hunk of ass."

She then stretched her long, hard torso right out along the length of my
soft, smooth body, reaching from the tip of my toes to my head, where 
her lips enclosed my mouth and her tongue flickered like a snaking rasp 
against mine.  She reached her arms around my chest, under the chaise, and 
untied my arms, then wiggled her slim, strong hips against mine and, with     
one firm hand, inserted my still erect and turgid cock past the lips of
her vagina, into her pulsing tunnel of love.  My arms, released, closed
around Chris's back and held her tight against me in sexual contraction.
Like a boa constrictor devouring her prey, Chris sucked all of her victim's
being inside her and pulsed and flexed until I exploded in a violent,
blasting ejaculation, and Chris came in a powerful, explosive orgasm that 
threw her off the body of her weak and helpless sex toy onto her glutes 
beside the chaise.

"WOW, WOW, and WOW!  That was fantastic!  I came, I saw, and I conquered, 
but not in that order.  I am MASTER!  I am LORD!  and you are MINE, you 
sexy, beautiful, little whore.  I took you and I drained you and I am still 
as horny as a bull in heat.  BOY!  We lifeguards have it made!  But that's 
enough for now.  I'm satisfied, and you're completely exhausted and inert.
And mine to command!"  

"LORD!, Chris, You ARE my LORD, and my MASTER! And I'm as sexually depleted 
as it's possible for a whore - your whore - to get.  WOW!!! I never thought
I'd ever be able to have another orgasm at my age, and look how you've taken 
me and raped me and ripped me apart!  But it's great for me that you like to 
screw us older victims of your violent sexual urges."

"OLDER!  Bobby, I would just HATE having to screw anyone older than me. How 
old do you think I am?"

"Hell, Chris, I guess I don't really know, but I figure you're about ten 
years younger than Jim, and he's about the same age as me, so that would 
make you about maybe sixty-five.  You sure don't look it or act it though.
You've got a physique that a thirty-year-old female athlete would be proud
of, but I know you're older than that!  How old are you?"

"Well, my daughter, Betty, is fifty-four this year.  And I had her when I 
was twenty-three.  So what does that make me now?  And why do you think 
Jim and I are such a good match - age-wise that is.

"Holy Geez, Chris!  I thought you and Jim were married because Jim has 
a fetish for younger women - and I thought you were one!  But that makes you 
SEVENTY-SEVEN years old!  Holy Geez!  SEVENTY-SEVEN!!! And you screw like a 
teen-age mink!  And you look like a professional lifeguard!  And you act like 
a muscular, sexy gigolo!  WOW!!!"  I layed back on the chaise and thought 
about what I'd just learned about my masterful lover.  SEVENTY-SEVEN! And 
the very thought drove me up the wall and my penis - my beaten-down exhausted
cock - arose and swelled and hardened into a rod of steel - and Chris laughed
aloud and covered me with her naked rippling torso and plunged me deep inside
her pulsing cunt and held me there, sweating and groaning, until I exploded,
one last time, into my Lord and Master's powerful and encapturing orgasm -
her trophy taken from a younger, weaker, powerless victim.  And she laughed
aloud in glee - and in victory!

"Now you listen up, Bobby.  You're going to get a phone call from me whenever 
I feel like another piece of ass, so rest up and be ready to satisfy me 
whenever I call.  Your place or mine, whatever I say.  Just be sure you're 
ready - and rested up.  But, for now, let's get this episode on film, just 
for the record."           

And Chris did.  She brought out her loaded camera and a tripod, set it up
to take in the area of the chaise, and arranged the subjects in poses that
reversed the order of her sexual dominance.  First, she hauled me off
the chaise, held me upright with her arm around my waist and my head on 
her shoulder. My body had collapsed and my knees were bent, but Chris's 
strong arm supported me.  We were both stark naked and, to emphasize the  
moment, Chris flexed the bicep, hard and bulging, on her right arm, and 
rippled her abs, and made her thighs striated and valleyed, until the scene 
was of a Hercules supporting a ruby-lipped houri.  And that's when the camera 
went off.  The other shots were in order and equally suggestive:  Chris, 
naked, lying on top of and completely absorbing me, fom head to toe; Chris 
astride me, with my hands tied together under the chaise; Chris carrying me 
from the pool, limp and half-drowned, in her strong and muscular arms, (me 
in my one-piece suit with my cleavage well exposed, and my upper body 
concealing Chris's chest, but clearly showing Chris's skimpy briefs 
and powerful legs); and a final shot of Chris , in the water, towing me, 
lifeguard-fashion, to the edge of the pool.  A fine series of pictures, 
demonstrating all that Chris wanted shown.

Yes, Chris!  After the pictures were taken, Chris and I reverted to our
normal roles - well, maybe not quite normal.  I still retained a one piece 
suit with sexy cleavage, and Chris still went topless in her skimpy, tight
shorts.  But we played above and below the water in the pool with no other  
thought of our role reversal for sex.  That would return, sometime in the 
future, when my phone began to ring.