Eli stared at himself in the mirror. Well—herself. Except it wasn’t “her,” it was him, in her.
He turned to the side and watched as Sabrina’s breasts pushed the crop top forward like they were leading the expedition. They were big and perfectly round, soft-looking but firm, with just the slightest bounce every time he shifted his weight. Her waist curved in dramatically, drawing the eye down to her hips—broad, smooth, the kind of hips that made tight shorts look illegal.
Eli licked suddenly dry lips. He swallowed.
If I’m gonna test this thing properly, he thought, brushing long, black hair behind one ear, I need to understand everything. Hormonal levels. Physical sensitivity. Neural mapping. Touch response.
He slid the bedroom door lock shut.
“Calibration protocol,” he said to no one. “Initiated.”
He peeled off the crop top slowly, tugging it up and over her—his—chest. Two perfect, tan, D-cup tits sprang free, nipples already tight from the cold air. They felt heavy. Warmer than expected. His hands moved automatically, cupping them. Pressing gently.
Oh. Oh wow.
The nerves lit up like a pinball machine. He squeezed experimentally, then bounced slightly on his heels. Her boobs jiggled like a GIF loop, hypnotic and soft.
So that’s what that feels like…
He moved to the bed, lay back, and slid his hands down her flat, toned belly. Her skin felt insanely smooth. He traced the curve of her hips, the inside of her thighs—until his fingers found the waistband of the shorts.
Pause. Scientific breath.
“Note: Subject experiencing accelerated heart rate. Palms sweaty. Anticipatory arousal unrelated to external stimuli. Hypothesis: high erogenous potential due to increased nerve cluster density.”
He slipped her shorts down. Her pussy was shaved, smooth, perfectly pink and symmetrical. He blinked. Stared. Exhaled. Then touched.
Just one fingertip.
The shock of pleasure was instant. Electric. Deep.
Eli gasped. “...Holy shit. That’s—intense.”
He lay back, one hand exploring slowly, carefully, documenting every reaction. Pressure here? Shiver. Circle there? Twitch. Stroke upward?
His hips lifted without meaning to. He moaned. Sabrina’s voice came out low, breathy, soft and throaty. “Fuck…”
The notebook lay forgotten on the floor. So did science. For now, he was conducting an entirely new kind of experiment—and it was going to take a very long time.
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