Updated: Dec 19, 2020
The story plot of wishing to be someone else has been used to very good comic effect, notably in both movie versions of Freaky Friday. One day we were watching the Lindsey Lohan version and it occurred to me how different it would have been had Jamie Lee Curtis switched bodies with a teenage son rather than a daughter. In the film the sexual overtone was referenced, but in a family film sort of way that ruled most issues off limits.
So in this tale I take on the theme of perspective and honesty in family life via this well worn scenario. Additionally I look into the new hot-button issues of gender identity and sexual morality in this short novel. To fast-forward the addressing of all these issues, I set the story in a home, like the home in which our kids grew up, where the parents have an open marriage.
Sadly I am not so good at writing comedy, so if you are looking for laughs, this is not the place to look. I hope you find this entertaining. But remember it is just a thought experiment, it is fiction without any basis in real people.
By Professor Polyamory©
Sue woke slowly. She had slept very deep and had some vaguely disturbing dreams, yet as she pulled into consciousness she could not quite remember them. She rolled to her back, something didn’t feel quite right. Annoyingly the tee-shirt she’d worn to bed wasn’t fitting right. She didn’t dwell on the thought but brooded over the fight she had with her son at two in the morning. She’d been worried about his safety, but that was no excuse for what she had told him. Besides, she never slept well when her husband was gone overnight. She didn’t resent his absence. It was only that she missed him beside her.
Down the upstairs hallway, in his bedroom, Stephen slept on. It was Saturday with no baseball game scheduled, so he was likely to sleep till noon. Besides he’d gotten home way later than his mother had wanted so he’d been grounded. Curfews were for kids and he was not a child. He had been seventeen for over three months now and was taller than his dad. A junior he had been the starting free safety on his high school’s varsity football team in the fall, and now was starting shortstop on the baseball team. Additionally he had a part time summer job, a car, and an amazing girlfriend; but, his mother still treated him like a child. Yes, he knew it was past his 1:00AM curfew when he pulled in the drive an hour late; but he deserved some time with his girlfriend and it’s not like he was free to bring her home. But did his mother understand? No! She just went on and on about how irresponsible he was.
“Do you ever stop to think before you do something?” she had said. “I have got news for you young man, the world doesn’t revolve around you!” she had told him in an inappropriately loud voice. “You just think everyone has to cater to your needs. You just need to grow up!”
“Mom!” he had yelled “I am not a child. I am so tired of you treating me like one. All the other adults in my life, my coaches, my teacher’s my boss at work all tell me that I am the most responsible teenager they know. But not you! I don’t know how to make you see how much I act like an adult.” He wanted to add that he never drinks more than two beers at a time and has never had vaginal sex without using a condom, but decided against it.
She in turn swore that he was a child and there was no way he was prepared to take on adult responsibilities. “I wish you could see how childish you look through my eyes” before taking his car keys and slamming the bedroom door behind her. Though he didn’t know it, she reproached herself for the words and the actions before she made it to her bed. But when her husband, Calvin, was off for the night she was always jumpy. Then when Stephen did not respond to repeated texts and then calls she had been sick with worry. Then when he showed up at 2:00AM without a hint of contrition, that was enough to make her lose it.
It was now morning and she pulled the covers back and swung her feet off the side of the bed. She felt bad that she’d called Stephen childish. She knew it wasn’t true. As she moved off the bed her train of thought was interrupted. Something felt wrong. She wasn’t sure what, but the way the sheets moved across her body and the way her body felt on the bed. Off somehow, the thought began to percolate in her mind. She sat up, swung her feet to the floor and slapped her thighs preparing to rise.
But she did not stand. She did not move. Her eyes stared blankly at her legs. They were a mess; a hairy mess. Her mind was more muddled than usual in the morning. She didn’t even try to figure out why her legs looked like she hadn’t shaved in months. Shuffling across the room she flipped on the bathroom lights and moved directly in front of the brightly lit mirror.
What she saw did not make sense. She was looking right in the mirror, but it was Stephen, not her own reflection looking back. Some things need to be reasoned, but some things just need to be accepted. She stood there for some time looking at Stephen, wearing a very old and rather ratty Led Zeppelin tee-shirt. Her favorite night shirt that she, only after some time, realized did not reach Stephens waist. So she was looking at her seventeen year old son, essentially naked, looking back at her. The fully erect penis at her crotch was completely out of the little thong panties she wore. She was her son, Stephen. But why was she wearing women’s panties that did not begin to keep her … his …well above average sized erection covered.
She had no idea. Perhaps she’d always been Stephen and her life as Sue, the mother of two, wife & professional artist was all a fantasy. That was it. She was Stephen and she was having a mental break. She was still lucid enough to know she could not be Sue, she had to be Stephen. To end the discomfort she pushed the undersized panties to the ground.
“What to do?” she said out loud. “Well if I am still a teenager, I must be at my parent’s house. I will find my mother and all this will straighten out.” To convince herself she was in control she took a towel, wrapped it around the naked waist of Stephen and went to look for her mother. Or should she look for the real Sue? Could she be my mother? This was getting more confusing by the second. But one thing was clear. She was not in the home in which she remembered growing up. She was in the home of her delusion that she was really a grown woman. That at least was real. But that did not clarify anything.
She started down an open staircase. Below her, in the living room, sat her daughter, or was it her sister? Either way it was Kate. Sixteen year old Kate looked up at her brother’s darting eyes. “What?”
Sue realized Kate was asking her, or rather Stephen a question. Forcing calm Stephen’s voice said in a solid baritone “Where is Mom?”
Kate returned to her book and said “She’s not out of bed yet.”
Sue knew that was not true, she’d been in her mother’s bed. If Stephen had been in his mother’s bed, then perhaps the mother was in the son’s bed. And so she was. Sprawled on the bed in the middle of a typical teenage boy’s room was the mother he (or was it she) had been looking for. It was still just so confusing.
“Mom! Mom!” Sue said as she shook what, she somehow thought should be her own sleeping body.
A groggy voice said “What?” before pulling the covers over Sue’s strawberry blond locks and saying “Are you going to bitch at me again?”
Instinctively Sue snapped back “Don’t use that language to me…..” but before she could say “young man” the voice came to Sue’s brain and it didn’t match.
From under the covers, Stephen also noted the incongruity of the words and voice. He pulled the covers back to see himself, standing at the side of his bed, wearing his mother’s Zeppelin shirt and a towel.
Unlike his mother he did not look for a logical answer, he sat bolt upright and said “What the fuck?”
He looked down, he was still in his clothes from last night. But, like his mother’s first thoughts, he felt something wrong.
He pulled back the neck of his old practice jersey, and where his hard earned abs should have been, were a pair of pinkish white breasts. Even in this state, the teenage boy looked hard and long at these tits before looking back to….to…. himself?
Where the older person looked for rationality, the teen took the circumstance on face value. He rolled to his knees and looked at the mirror that hung on the wall beside the door. He was in his mother’s body. He looked back at his body and said “Mom?”
What could she say? He had broken her delusion of reason. “Yes, honey, I’m afraid so.”
“But how?” he muttered
“I don’t know.”
“Why? What are we going to do?” He said in his mother’s voice, now almost pleading.
“I don’t know” she said again. “Give me a few minutes. I’ve got to think” and she shut the door as she left the room.
Stephen fell back to the bed. This was just more than he could handle. How did he turn into a woman? Not just a woman, his mom. She might be over forty, but she was beyond doubt the best looking mom he knew. Well, except Carlos, his mom had him at like fourteen and she didn’t look anything like a mother. But as far as MILFs went, his mom was the most popular. The guys always liked coming over to his house in the summer as his mom was very friendly to the kids and often wore skimpy clothes. She even sunned in their back yard in thong bikinis. His friends all drooled over both her ass and her tits. Being the teenage boy he was, his hands went to his chest and cupped the breasts beneath the jersey.
The feeling was a surprise. Not for his hands, he’d cupped a good many boobs in the last few years, but in the breasts themselves. They were so sensitive. It felt good, not the same as holding his dick, but not completely different either. As he lay there, he felt the nipples harden. His nipples! And they got more sensitive as he rubbed them. He pinched one. The intense sensation made him jump.
Without any thought to the seriousness of the situation; Stephen jumped out of bed and stood in front of the full-length mirror pulling off his jersey and kicking loose his sweats as he went. How many times he’d stood in front of that mirror and jacked off. But this was something completely different. It was like a video game. He was in a female body, his mom’s body, and could make it do anything he wanted.
“Fuck me!” he said aloud. While he’d had brief looks at her naked many times, this was not a brief look. The Richard’s home was not uptight about such things, after all his mother was a professional artist that often painted nude women. When his mother’s friend Mary posed buck naked for his mom, neither his mother nor the woman ever batted an eye if he came into his mom’s home studio. However, her case was the rare exception, not the rule. When almost any other woman posed for her, his mother put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on her studio door. She had made it clear to both him and Kate that nudity was not the issue, rather the model’s privacy and comfort. All this did not mean his mom deliberately let him see her naked either, because she did not. Yet, in the summers her outfits could be revealing enough to give his friends wood.
Other than his best friend Collin, the rest of his friends begged to come over in hopes of seeing his milf mom sunning in a thong bikini, or working in her home art studio in what she called her togs. Collin had not begged only because he was there so much already and the truth was Mrs. Flint, Collin’s mom, dressed way more provocatively than did Mrs. Richards. The two families were as close as could be and to the two boys that was how all mother’s dressed. Though their friends assured them that was not so and swore they were the luckiest guys on earth. So he more or less knew what she looked like under her clothes. But this was totally different.
The body he saw in the mirror was a youthful forty-one, just under 5’4”, curvy but not fat. As a natural redhead, her skin had a pink hue and many small freckles just about everywhere, but they were more prominent on her face and shoulders. The pink breast seemed large to him. Certainly larger than any girl with whom he’d had sex, but they were not so big they sagged too much to be unattractive. Her hips flared more than those girls too, and Stephen was surprised at how the mound of her sex stood out. Looking at his mom in the mirror couldn’t help but to turn him on. He felt the tingling sensation in his thighs and lower abdomen, but instead of radiating out into his engorged penis, the arousal flowed inward.
He reached down and touched the patch of red pubic hair cut cleanly into the shape of a flattened five-sided diamond that sat on top of her pussy crease. For a moment he lost track of lusting over his mom’s body when he wondered how she kept the triangle so perfectly cut. He recalled how his mother had first showed it off two summers before. He had almost finished his first year of high school when his mom had surprised even her friends at the annual Memorial Day pool party at Gill’s parent’s house. When she kicked off her shorts so that she was down to the bikini top and an absolute minimal thong bikini bottom; that perfectly cut diamond of red pubic hair showed above the tiny bit of fabric that just barely covered the crease between her outer lips. Nobody there mistook that for an ooops moment. It was plain that was how Sue Richards intended it to be. She had proudly told everyone that she was not going to let bourgeoisie rules tell her how to cut her pubic hair. Since then he’d seen her show her pubes at almost all of the three annual big pool parties with her friends. Not always, but often enough, and it was always shaped exactly the same. His mom might be bossy sometimes, but she really was super cool. Perhaps that is why he and his mom were so close, he really did respect and look up to her. If that made him a momma’s boy, as some of the guys had said, well he didn’t think any momma was half so great as his.
Soon however the nude woman in the mirror ceased to be mom in his mind. How could he feel off his mom? Up till this moment, he thought he knew all about female bodies. Even before that really strange day six months ago when he and Jenny had sex the very first time they had met, Monica had been a friend with benefits for half a year and Dianna was too. So for over a year he’d been having sex about twice a week. Beyond those three special friends he’d gotten over a dozen blow jobs from eight different girls, had gone down on three of those and had fucked one of them. So he thought he knew what he was doing. He recalled how Jenny, Monica and Dianna responded to his touch. He also recalled how his sister had told him that girls were different than guys in how they experience sex. Now he finally understood. He felt the sensitivity of his groin area. Without thinking about it he pressed his legs together at the thigh, the feeling was not too unlike when he touched the shaft of his hard penis. But rather than pointing out like his dick, it went into him. The sort of shaft that ran between the, his, inner lips seemed to be like his penis only super small. Not just the tip, the clit, but back and down too…and it felt like it had gotten hard, like his dick did. It was like how the head of if cock was super sensitive, but other parts were sensitive too.
He tried feeling himself off, the way he’d done to girls. He groped his new vulva, and found out right off why this didn’t get him very far, it was irritating. Not a turn on, just irritating. He quickly backed off the intensity. With such feedback it didn't take long before he got the right amount of speed and pressure. Soon it began to feel really good. And in the mirror, it looked good. So hot! With instantaneous feedback, he began masturbating in earnest and it was like nothing he had ever even imagined. While rubbing his vulva, he used the other hand to cup a breast, then began to experiment with different sensations on the sensitive nipples. It was all so cool and felt so good.
When Sue had left her son’s room, she went back to her own and sat on the side of the bed. She appraised the situation. It seemed apparent that the fight and her accusing him of still being a child caused this reaction. If so, what was to be done? Like the ghosts in A Christmas Carol this supernatural event must have a lesson to tell. If so, she needed to learn it quickly and get back to her life and her body. She reasoned that no one should know of this. Not her husband, certainly not her daughter. No one can find out. “I must live Stephens’s life” she said to herself.
Sitting half-dressed in the master bedroom was not living his life. So she headed back to Stephen’s room.
Stephen had just found the road that led to a woman's orgasm when his bedroom door swung open almost hitting him. In all the weirdness he had forgotten to lock it.
Sue found herself standing right in front of herself, at least her body, fully nude. It was evident he was masturbating; playing with her. Stephen leaped to the bed and covered up. Sue shut the door behind her. She certainly had not anticipated this. She would deal with this boy’s disrespect of her body, but not now. She had to end this.
With no mention of what she had just caught him doing, she laid out the plan. He would go to her room and get dressed in her clothes and she would dress in his. They would pretend to be the other until a way to return to themselves showed.
“Now, your sister is still in the living room, just go to my room and get dressed.”
He hesitated to get up.
“That body you’re in may be new to you, but I’ve seen it every day of my life. Now get!”