Groundhog Day

Hey there folks! So I recently commented on a story (my first comment ever after being a lurker here for some time) and was told something like "why don't you write a story too?" Well, here's the first part of my contribution. It's all I have so far, but it only took me a short time to put together, so if you all like it, I'll try to keep going (I've got a very busy schedule to manage right now, so I can't promise it would come too quickly). Without further ado, I present:

Groundhog Day

I should be dead. I don't understand it...I am dead. I died, that categorizes one as dead, right? And yet here I am, replaying the last day of my life, over and over again. But it's never the same. My death changes each time, and sometimes, I don't even die. But as soon as the clock hits midnight, I'm gone. Everything fades to black.

But that's not all that changes. The world...morphs. Every time I wake up, I'm a six foot five black guy, or a petite redhead, or weirder yet, I've got tentacles for arms. No matter what the change, my mind stays intact, but with a new...section. I wake up with the memories and personality of my new being, enabling me to act my way through the day without a hitch. At the same time, I remember my old life as Tom Harris, average 17 year old high school senior from suburban Philly.

It's all getting a bit fuzzy though, what with all these days adding up. I don't want to forget a thing, and, as luck would have it, there is one constant. My journal from my old life seems to stay with me, and whatever I write in it carries into the next day. It's like it was meant to help me along with this...situation I seem to be stuck in. My daily loop. My Groundhog Day. From this day forward, I will, to the best of my ability, record the details of each passing day.

Day 255

After what seems like forever, I think I have found paradise. When this whole thing first started, I was freaking out. You can only imagine how I felt the first time I was a chick. Over time I learned to appreciate both sides of the equation, but because of that, lost a bit of satisfaction in being either male or female. When I was a man, I missed my curves. I missed the feeling of being taken, being filled. When I was a woman, I longed to really fuck someone, especially with those days when I was, ahem, particularly well endowed.

As I said, I found paradise.

When I first woke up, the first sensation I had was a heavy slap. "Wake up, sleepy head!" commanded the voice coming from above me. Smack! There it was again. As my brain began to collect its new memories, I recalled that this was a fairly common morning routine, as my identical, busty and beautiful identical twin sister Miranda cockslapped me with her enormous cock.

Wait...what?

Opening my eyes, I saw the sexiest sight I had ever laid eyes on. This girl was something out of a dream. Soft Chinese features accented her luxurious black hair, which