From: WHITEJL@DUVM.OCS.DREXEL.EDU (SilentElf) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: TG: Tailor Made Date: 20 Jun 1995 14:58:05 GMT This is my latest work - I'd love feeback! (I'll cheerfully forward mindless flames to your postmaster, so just keep that shit to yourself.) And, as always, if you don't like this kind of stuff, then just don't read it. Enjoy! Dafydd Cyhoeddwr ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Tailor Made by Dafydd Cyhoeddwr copyright June, 1995 Barry blamed Sports Illustrated. The Swimsuit Issue in particular. He was bored, and alone in the townhouse he shared with Kathy, a platonic friend he had had since college. In fact, they had roomed together in college, in a shared house thing. There, they had been roommates even though neither used the room that was theirs - they both actually stayed in the rooms of their respective lovers. Here he had his own room that was really his, though the townhouse was really Kathy's. She had offered him crash space when he had returned to town 5 years after college until he found some more permanent arrangement. The permanent arrangement had turned out to be right here, and he was still here after 2 years. But that didn't have much to do with why he was bored. Barry was bored because he was broke. He had a clerk-typist/office boy type job - not minimum wage, but not exactly yuppie-scale salary either. He kept himself in clothes and minimal entertainment, along with sharing rent and food with Kathy, so he wasn't miserable or anything. It was just that his month's entertainment budget had already been spent. And even though Kathy managed to supplement said budget with her generous and unmonitored expense account, this particular weekend wasn't one she was able to include him in on. So, he was stuck in an empty townhouse with 80-some channels of cable-TV and some magazines, SI Swimsuit Issue included. But, after flipping through said issue for the third time, and surfing all 80+ channels 5 times, he was just too restless to stay still another moment. He began roaming around the townhouse, trying to come up with something to do. Eventually, he opened the door to Kathy's room and stepped inside. He looked around, preparing for his usual trip through her drawers, when his attention was diverted. Barry was a transvestite. This was one of the few secrets he had from Kathy - he didn't see much of a reason to tell her, after all. He was in a pretty sweet situation after all - he had free access to a woman's wardrobe, didn't he? Kathy was of a size with him - another happy accident. He didn't borrow things from her drawers, that would have been too dangerous. But as he often did the laundry, it was a simple matter to borrow a pair of panties or hose, wear them for a few days, and then return them via the laundry. Where a person might miss something they had seen that morning or the night before in their scanties drawer, they had much less of a chance of remembering what they had worn during the week and noticing that it wasn't in the clean laundry on Saturday. Kathy certainly didn't have the kind of details-oriented personality that kind of meticulousness required. He did have his own collection of underthings, of course, kept in a locked chest under his bed. He didn't have any outer clothes - his few attempts to dress all the way had shown him that he absolutely couldn't pass. Even with the help of one of his past girlfriends - on Halloween, of course - he hadn't been able to disguise his masculinity. And unlike many transvestites, for him believability was required for him to get anything out of the experience, at least as far as dressing all the way went. He got an enormous charge out of wearing just the underwear, perhaps because he just liked the look and feel of them without expecting them to make him look like anything he wasn't. So, his trip into Kathy's bedroom wasn't a raiding foray. It was just a chance to examine Kathy's exquisite taste (either a product of, or a contributing factor toward, her talent at designing clothes) and the results thereof. It was also something to do, even if it was an exercise in denial - she had things in her drawers that she so seldom wore that Barry had no opportunity to borrow them since they would easily be missed. But this time, he never got to the drawers because of what he saw on her bed. And what he saw was a bathing suit. Neon green, with black trim around the neck and leg-holes and hot pink random stripes radiating up and down from these black-trimmed edges. It had that wet-look that characterized cire (not that he necessarily knew what that was, but he had seen the word in the catalogs and all), and even though it was a one-piece Barry could imagine that it would look very, very hot wrapped around a female body. He went over to the bed and picked up the suit. He looked for a label but the one he found only had a strange symbol on it - no name, no washing instructions, nothing more than that symbol. It looked very well made, though. High cut legs, and a breast-hugging top. He just stared at the suit and began to get ideas. Somewhere in Barry's past, he had come up with a curious conviction about female's swimsuits. It wasn't anything he could have really articulated - he didn't really consciously believe it, after all. But somewhere below that conscious level, he had this idea that swimsuits were capable of creating beautiful women. Not just displaying them to their best advantage, but actually molding the women into those fantastic shapes. Perhaps growing up in a nearly recreational-water-less town in the midwest had something to do with it - after all, he had pretty much never actually seen a woman in a bathing suit during his formative years, and certainly not one that looked like the models in Sports Illustrated. It wasn't a particularly reasonable deep seated belief, nor was it terribly logical either. But it still had an effect on Barry as he stood there in his roommate's bedroom and looked at that neon green swimsuit. Not that he wouldn't have considered trying the thing on without that odd belief, but maybe he had some subconscious high hopes for this particular dressing session. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and took the swimsuit over to stand in front of Kathy's full length mirror. A glance in the mirror showed him an average male body, thin, not particularly in or out of shape, reasonably hairless (though that was still too much hair as far as he was concerned). It was a little too square in the shoulders, too straight from shoulders to hips, too man-ish to be easily disguised as a female, much to his dismay. But he was still curious as to what he would look like in the swimsuit. He fumbled with the suit for a bit until he figured how it should go on. Holding the back open, he stepped into the leg holes one foot at a time. He pulled the suit up his legs and with a little bit of a struggle he settled it around his waist. He felt it tight around his legs and waist, but no where else - well, one other place. He slipped his hand down the front of the suit and arranged his male equipment so they went back between his legs. His balls slipped back up into his body and his rod just pointed backwards. He gave a little extra tug on the suit and the crotch slipped up into final position, holding everything in place. He held the top of the suit out of the way and looked in the mirror, and smiled when he saw that nothing showed between his legs. Perfect. He put his arms through the straps of the suit and pulled the top half of the suit up so that the straps settled onto his shoulders. The suit was barely long enough for him - he could feel the crotch pulling up against him as the straps pulled down. Another look in the mirror actually disappointed him: the suit really looked pretty bad on him! The waist was tight - a little too tight, and it showed. The hips of the suit, in contrast, were very loose and wrinkled. As the suit came up from the waist it got looser and looser on him, with the slightly cupped breast area looking like deflated balloons since it had nothing substantial to enclose. In short, he made the beautiful suit look hideous, which was exactly the reason he had never really been able to get into crossdressing all the way. He thought about just taking the suit off and forgetting about it. But maybe he should at least put it all the way on properly by zipping it up before giving up. He twisted and turned, reaching back and fumbling blindly until he finally grabbed the zipper tab and began pulling it up. The suit fit him tautly enough that he had little trouble pulling the zipper up, until he got to the small of his back, where his hand refused to continue to go. More twisting and turning finally got the tab up far enough that he could reach over his shoulder and grab it. Just one more tug and the suit would be closed ... ***** Kathy looked around the hotel room and made sure everything was ready. It was, except for the final touch. She opened the second suitcase she had brought along for her business weekend and began to take out the items in it and arrange them on the second bed. This was a business weekend, but not one for the company she worked for. True, it involved clothes she had designed and made, but these clothes were very specialized and even more expensive than the designer clothes she made for her employers. Kathy was a witch. She had started the learning process in high school, at the prep school her parents had sent her to to try to polish her into a proper young lady. It hadn't worked particularly well, but well enough that she was able to fool her parents, who subsequently sent her away to college as promised. In college she had discovered her talent for designing clothes, and greatly improved her grasp of witchcraft. She wasn't unique in her abilities, and so had had plenty of teachers, as well as fellow students to practice and study with. She also learned how to keep her abilities a secret from the world at large without completely stifling them. Her current sideline had started a few years earlier when she had been visited by one of her prep school roommates, and the one who had shown her into the world of the more-than-normal. As soon she had seen Lilly, she had realized that something was different about her. Lilly had never been all that good at magic - she had only ever mastered a few very basic spells - but that was okay because she was a really great person, as well as very beautiful. But Kathy noticed that a certain portion of Lilly's anatomy had been rather noticeably enhanced since last they had seen each other, and Kathy wondered how. Magic had the ability to transform. But it was a very difficult spell to work - not complicated, or hard, but time consuming, and requiring a great deal of exactitude. It was nearly impossible to cast on ones-self - the effects of transforming spells tended to be disruptive as they did their work, and the feat of concentrating on the spell amidst the effects was nearly impossible. There were magic practitioners who specialized in transformations but their rates were commensurate with the normals who did their work with knives and sutures (though magic had a much lower failure rate, and there was no recuperation, as such, necessary), and there weren't nearly as many magical transformers as plastic surgeons, so their waiting lists were usually phenomenal. It was just natural curiosity that led Kathy to ask Lilly how she had chosen to enlarge her breasts. But Kathy was shocked by Lilly's answer: "I did it myself. Like 'em?" As it turned out, much to Kathy's relief (she didn't want to think that Lilly could attempt a spell that Kathy wouldn't even dream of looking into), Lilly HAD done the transformation, but not in the usual way. She had purchased a lot from an estate sale that contained some old books, and she had been lucky to find that one of the books was a research journal of a wizard from several hundred years before. Before selling the book to one of the magic colleges, she had looked through the book and found a certain type of transformation spell that she had kept to herself. The unique aspect of this transformation spell was that it was meant to be cast on an article of clothing. Not to transform the clothing, but to enable the clothing to transform the wearer. Lilly was living proof that the spell worked, but she had never really done much with it. She happily traded it to Kathy for some services that Kathy was more able to do than she, and the professional designer began to do deeper research into the spell to learn the parameters of it, how it worked, why it worked, and what exactly it could and could not do. And then she began to put it to use in a way that had been suggested by Lilly herself. She had had to be cautious at first. You couldn't market a line of transforming clothes openly, and you didn't want the ability to be abused, or cause you to be abused, either. But using some carefully selected initial clients and word of mouth thereafter, she had managed to turn her sideline into a truly amazingly lucrative part time business. She pulled the last garment out of the suitcase and draped it artfully on the bed. Looking them over, she realized that something was missing. She ticked each garment off of her mental list of what the client had ordered, and realized that she had left the swimsuit back at home! She suffered a momentary twinge of worry - Barry was at home with that magical garment, after all - but then again, why should that worry her? It wasn't like he would try it on or anything ... So, she would just explain to her client, and offer to ship the swimsuit when she got home. She was puttering around the room, putting finishing touches on the display when the phone rang. It was the front desk - her client had arrived. ***** Barry gave the final tug and the zipper snicked closed. He had just enough time to notice that the suit didn't look any better this way when his whole body convulsed in a spasm of really pleasurable pain. His eyes closed involuntarily, and he almost fell over as his knees nearly gave way. The whole thing - whatever it was - passed the next second, leaving Barry gasping and leaning by one arm against the mirror. When he felt better, he opened his eyes and pushed himself back upright. He instinctively looked in the mirror, and then nearly fainted again from what he saw. Looking back at him from the mirror was a beautiful woman wearing a neon green swimsuit with hot pink and black accents. In fact, the suit looked exactly like the one he had found on his roommate's bed and had put on, but the person wearing it looked nothing like he did. Several theories ran through his head - things on the level of the mirror being a gateway into a strange parallel dimension where the people were different but the clothes were the same. Then he looked down and was shocked to find that the swimsuit now fit him absolutely perfectly! He looked into the mirror again and took stock of what he saw. The swimsuit was covering a very attractive female figure, stretched taut over nicely sized breasts and nicely rounded hips and ass, hugging a narrower waist than he had had before. The arms and legs that protruded from the suit were just as feminine as the shape beneath it - long and slender and totally hairless. The scooped neck of the suit showed the swellings of cleavage that rose to a swanlike neck, upon which was perched a lovely oval face featuring a tiny nose and large, emerald eyes, framed by long golden brown hair. He studied the face and the body closely, but there really wasn't even a shred of his old self there. Everything was different - hair color, eye color, shape of face, chest, hips. Even his fingerprints! (Or so he imagined - he was pretty sure his thumb was a left hand double whorl, but these thumbs were single whorls...) As his mind was traveling these kinds of paths, he had a sobering thought. He looked down between his legs, and was momentarily horrified to see that nothing showed there but a flat, female-type groin. Then he remembered that he had been very happy to see that same (mostly) flat female-type groin when he first put the suit on. He reached around behind his back and fought the zipper back down, and stripped the suit off just as fast as he possibly could. When the neon green fabric had been flipped into the corner, he looked into the mirror again. His eyes widened as they saw only a triangle of hair between his now rather more full thighs. Hoping against hope, he spread his thighs apart and heaved a sigh of relief when his cock sprang up from where it had been trapped for so long. He looked back into the mirror and saw the strange, yet exciting, image there. Mostly female, but possessing that essence of maleness, a cock. His new body was just as beautiful naked as it had been in the swimsuit. The breasts were full, with well-delineated aureoles and nice, big, thick nipples. The skin was nice and creamy all over, with no extraneous hair anywhere except between his legs. It was a beautiful body. A fantasy body, in fact. Was this just some kind of dream? Could he really have the body of a beautiful woman, like magic or something? His fingers reached for his breasts, to see if they were as real as they looked. He felt soft, smooth skin - sure seemed real. His fingers trailed over to his nipple and stroked across it, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin. His cock, already semi-hard from the beautiful image in the mirror, throbbed and gained stiffness from the nipple-jolt, and Barry gasped from the reaction. Without even thinking about it, he grabbed his nipple and rolled it between his fingers, and his knees almost buckled again as waves of pleasure flooded his body, making his cock stand completely up and pulse but not stopping there - the pleasure reached every part of his body! One hand stayed at his new breast, teasing his nipple and feeding his body sensations it had never known before. The other hand went to his groin, wrapping itself around his cock familiarly, and began stroking, which added the old (far too) familiar sensations of masturbation to the new nipple-teasing pleasure and producing an amazing synergistic effect that pushed him into orgasm in record time! Body-wrenching spasms rocked him, and cum flew everywhere, and finally, drained, he collapsed backward onto the bed. It took a few moments to recover from his explosion. He lifted himself up onto his elbows and looked down at his new body. He smiled - this was really a dream come true! He thought about all the clothes he could try on now, that would look really good - dynamite! - on him now. As he slowly sat up, and then walked over to the corner of the room, he thought, But first, I want to see myself in this magic swimsuit again. ***** There was a knock on Kathy's door almost before the desk hung up. She went over and answered it and greeted her client, Hanna Lath, and ushered her into the room. Hanna was a small woman - thin, short, somewhat underendowed. There was nothing about her that was remarkable. Kathy usually didn't pry into the reasons her clients sought her out (except to make sure that there was nothing illegal being contemplated), but it wasn't hard to guess what probably motivated Hanna, especially considering that she knew the specifications Hanna had given her for the transformation matrices. Then again, that WAS exactly what she was selling, wasn't it? She settled Hanna in a chair, and engaged in small talk for a little while, offering her a drink from the wet bar and renewing their brief, superficial acquaintance. When Hanna seemed relaxed, she began her sales spiel. She picked up a simple black slip, nicely decorated with lace, and handed it to Hanna. "Okay, Hanna, first thing I want you to do is to go into the bathroom and take off your outer clothes, and the put this slip on. It is very important that you do this - I cannot continue until and unless you do it. Just put it on, wait for the tingle, and then you can take it off again. If you want, you can put on the robe on the hook in there before coming back out - that should make the rest of the fashion show go much quicker." Hanna smiled and took the slip into the bathroom. Kathy knew that Hanna probably knew why the slip was necessary, and also already knew much of what she was about to hear - after all, she was friends with at least one of Kathy's previous customers since that was how she had learned of Kathy's services. But Kathy preferred to give her whole lecture to each new client - it absolved her (in her own mind at least) of any problems that might arise later. She intended to give Hanna all of the details, including safety information, of the clothes she was about to buy. If Hanna ignored the lecture, or screwed up in some way later, it was not Kathy's fault. (Not that the clothing was dangerous, or anything - but better safe than sorry.) Hanna returned, wearing the robe, and handed the slip back to Kathy. Kathy probed the slip magically to make sure the matrix in the garment had properly recorded the pattern that was the current Hanna. Satisfied that it had, she started speaking again. "The clothing I'm about to sell you has the power to transform you to the specifications you provided me. But the magic involved has its own rules and limitations, and that is what I am about to explain to you. "The first time you put on one of the transformation garments, it will change your body to the shape within its matrix. The transformation will last for about 15 minutes after the garments is removed. "If you put one on again - any of these, they all have the same basic magic within them - within a seven day period, the second transformation will last for an hour after the garment is removed. And if you put one of these on for a third time within seven days of the first time, the transformation will be permanent. "This slip is something like a reset button. When you put it on a moment ago, it recorded you as you are now. Any time you put it on, it will remove all traces of previous transformations and return you to your 'normal' looks. For instance, since you will need to try each of these garments on, without the slip you would have to leave this hotel as your alter ego, or spread out the try-ons over about two months. But with the slip, there will be no problem with you returning to your current life in about two hours. "Just so you are completely aware, the transformation of these garments is complete. Nothing about the transformed you will be able to be linked to the old you, right down to your DNA. Only your memories will remain the same. The implications are obvious - you could stop being Hanna Lath completely with these clothes. But I will warn you that it is not a simple process to just become another person. While your body will be different, there are all kinds of things that will not change with your body - like your identification, your bank accounts, your entire past history. Now, I know people who can arrange that kind of transition if you should desire it and you have the price ... "But enough exposition. How about you try on that tennis dress there? Oh, and I'm sorry, but I left your swimsuit at home. I'll ship it to you as soon as I get back..." ***** The swimsuit went on the second time in a completely different way from the first time. It fit properly, for one thing, so as he pulled it up, it was more like pulling up a sock that fit tightly, than trying to arrange a large sack around his body. He again had to tuck his cock back between his legs. He took a good look at it before he did so, trying to decide if it had changed along with the rest of him. It seemed much the same except for the hair - it was completely hairless, now, as were his balls, a change that was as welcome as the new breasts on his chest. What he really couldn't decide was whether it was really larger, or whether his new feminine hands were smaller so that it only seemed larger ... But soon, the suit was back on his body, fitting it perfectly, snugly. He still had to struggle with the zipper - none of his male clothes had ever had a back zipper, after all. He braced himself as he pulled the zipper closed, but all he felt this time was a little tingle - nothing earthshaking at all. He posed in the mirror for a while - pretending he was showing off at the beach, pretending he was a model, pretending he was a pretty girl walking down the street. He probably would have posed for the rest of the afternoon (between bouts of jerking off - his posing made his arms brush across his chest, which excited his nipples, which made his cock throb between his legs.....) if not for the ringing of the doorbell. Panic was his first reaction - he was going to be caught! Reason soon quelled that thought, though - all he really had to do was not answer it, after all. No reason to worry. But when the bell rang again, both of those first thoughts were simply discarded in favor of a 'what the hell, why not!' that really surprised him. But before he could stop himself, he was halfway to the door and by the time he got himself back under control he found himself facing a man in a brown uniform through the screen door of the townhouse. The man's eyes flicked down and then back up, surveying the gorgeous woman in the pretty swimsuit quickly and smiling in reaction before getting back to business. "Is there a Kathy Cerlaon here, miss?" he asked. Barry didn't answer immediately, because he had seen the delivery man's surveying glance and had reacted extremely peculiarly to it. He knew very well what the man - the patch on his chest said Dan - had seen, since he had been staring at the same view when the bell rang. So he knew that Dan was looking at, and reacting to a beautiful woman. And with that image filling his own mind, Barry's reaction to Dan's look was one of pleasure, especially when the delivery man smiled, which sent a little thrill of victory through him. Victory in that a stranger found the way he looked pleasing. Which disturbed him deeply the next second, when he realized how completely female his reaction had seemed. Mentally shaking off his confusion, he said, "Uh, no, uh, she's away for the weekend." "Well, could you sign for this package then?" "No problem." Barry opened the door, realizing as he did so that he might not want to sign his real name, since he knew he didn't look like a 'Barry' right now. He took the brown-wrapped box from Dan and set it beside the door, and then took the pad from him, signed his initial and last name on the LED window, and handed the computerized gadget back. As Dan verified that the signature was properly recorded, Barry impulsively said, "Would you like to come in for a moment? Its nice and cool in here." Not that it was all that hot for a spring afternoon, but he wasn't exactly well versed in come-on lines. Dan considered for a moment, then pushed a button on the pad, nodded, said, "That would be great, miss," and slid past him into the living room of the townhouse. Barry shut the doors and said, "Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Beer? Soda? Water?" "Um, water would be fine. I'm pretty particular about my beer." "I don't drink beer at all - I'm more the wine cooler type." Barry wasn't much of a drinker of anything, but he had never had a wine cooler in his life. As he filled a glass with ice, and then spring water, he figured he had said that because it was the kind of thing he supposed cute women in neon green swimsuits were supposed to say to delivery men. As he carried the glass over to Dan's chair, he wondered what else he was likely to do because that's what he supposed cute women in green swimsuits did. The pose he used to deliver the glass to the delivery man was nearly natural - bent over from the waist, flashing cleavage and a dazzling smile at the man. "Can I get you anything else?" Dan's eyes never left that flashing flesh as he shook his head briefly. "No, I'm fine." Barry straightened up coyly and sat down opposite the coffee table from Dan. Silence reigned uncomfortably until Barry ventured a pretty lame attempt at conversation. "So, what's it like being a delivery person?" Dan grinned and said, "Well, it has its perqs. Like being invited into the homes of beautiful women..." Barry grinned back, pleased by Dan's compliment, but also worried. He wasn't much of a conversationalist at the best of times, and this wasn't even close to one of those best of times because of the potentials present. He didn't know why, and he refused to think about it, but he knew what he wanted to happen before Dan got back in his big van and drove away. And he had no idea of how to lead things gently into that situation. Once again, 'what the hell!' came to the rescue. He stood up and walked over to Dan as sexily as he could manage. He leaned down and began unbuttoning the brown shirt Dan was wearing, and said, "I like being a perq. I wanna be the best perq you've had all month..." The idiot grin that split Dan's face told Barry that the delivery man was reacting just the way he would have in the face of imminent sex: no thoughts of reasons or consequence, just anticipation of pleasure. Which was a good way to be, thought Barry. In fact, for the moment at least, using the male pronoun for himself put too much of a barrier between himself and that pleasure so he decided to think of himself as what he seemed to be, at least for the moment. And so, Barry became a 'she'. Dan's shirt was soon draped over a chair, and Barry was running her hands across his chest, cooing appreciatively. He wasn't built like a typical porn-video stud (which was as close as Barry had ever come to a man in this kind of situation), but he was cute, and relatively hairless, and all male which was good enough for her. Her hands went to Dan's belt, and the delivery man's hips lifted away from the couch immediately. Barry knelt down to undo the buckle, open the fly, and pull the slacks down. She smiled up and the still grinning Dan when she saw the paisley decorated red bikini-briefs he wore - the bulging and brief bikini-briefs he barely wore! "Is that for me?" she coyly asked, and ran long fingers and long nails across the pulsing bulge. Dan needlessly nodded fervently, but Barry wasn't even watching. She moved back a little so that she could remove his slacks from his legs, and toss them after his shirt. Then, she snuggled herself back up between his legs, feeling his thighs pressing against the sides of her breasts. She bent her neck and ran her nose along the ridge of the bulge in the briefs, teasing herself as well as him. She ran her hands up and down his sides and hips, and after planting a single kiss on the bulge that sent a tingle through her whole body as she felt what it was her lips touched and understood that they would be touching it even closer very soon, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of the briefs and began to tug at them to remove them. But Dan objected, in a very nice way. He gently pushed at her shoulder and when she looked up at him, he said, "Would it be all right to see more of you before you see more of me?" Barry realize that she was still wearing the swimsuit. Her first impulse was to strip it off - but sense was restored before she did something REALLY stupid. She had nearly forgotten the source of the throbbing between her legs, but having remembered her cock, she decided that she didn't really want the added complication of Dan's reaction to her actual (as opposed to apparent) gender in her seduction right now. So, she compromised. Smiling sweetly, she said, "Of course you may, Mr Delivery-Man. But not quite everything." She reached behind herself and unzipped the suit. She slipped her arms out of the suit and let the front of it fall slowly away from her breasts. But instead of pealing it the rest of the way off, she just let it hang from the constriction at her waist. Dan didn't seem to mind - his eyes were all on her breasts. His hands reached out and touched them, caressing them gently and with surprisingly soft hands. When he flicked his thumbs across her nipples, she gasped with the jolt of pleasure that sent through her body, and especially to her trapped secret of a cock, causing it to throb nearly painfully. Her head went back and her eyes closed as he continued to tantalize her nipples, but when she felt his hand on her belly and moving lower, she realized that she was letting the incredible pleasure her breasts were capable of generating compromise her. She couldn't let that continue. With a sigh, she lifted her head, opened her eyes, and took his hand off of her belly. "And now, back to the show," she said. She pushed him back onto the couch and stripped off his briefs, revealing a cock that wasn't much different from her own. Throwing his briefs on top of his pants, she scooted back between his thighs and immediately took his cock into her mouth. She would have liked to take her time and truly savor her first cock- sucking. After all, it was an important event in her life in several ways. But, she also realized that Dan was a complete stranger, and she was alone in the house with him and with a secret that most guys would be very distressed to discover. She hoped that by giving him his 'perq' quickly (and thoroughly) she could keep him happy and get him back out the door before he realized the advantage he had and was tempted to use it. Barry was no pro at blow jobs - in fact, she was a complete novice. She had, of course, SEEN blow jobs countless times on video, but she rapidly found that seeing and doing weren't exactly the same. Same went for the fewer number she had experienced from the other end - she knew what should feel good, but she wasn't exactly sure how to achieve it. So, experimentation was the way to go - trial and error, with speed thrown in. Dan's cock pretty much filled her mouth, and when she tried to get her nose into his pubic hair she learned first hand about that 'gag reflex' she had heard about second hand. She locked a hand around the base of his cock, though, and that kept her from accidentally trying to take in too much. She worked her lips and tongue like a porn star (she hoped), trying to stimulate Dan with energy and action instead of technique. She bobbed her head up and down with her lips locked tight to his shaft. Then, she tongued it like an ice cream cone, swirling her tongue all over it. She stroked it with her fist as she licked just the head, and she held it in her mouth, using tongue and cheeks to stimulate it. She was lucky in that Dan wasn't as much of a veteran of blow jobs as he liked to think, and so he wasn't jaded by over-experience. Her efforts were just fantastic to him, and his pleasure mounted almost faster than either of them really wanted. Just as she was beginning to forget about her 'get him out ASAP' philosophy and get into the cock she was sucking, he started making gasping, groaning noises that she knew intimately. She closed her lips around about half of his cock and using tongue and fingers to keep it stimulated, she waited for the inevitable. She didn't have to wait long for the pulsing explosion that filled her mouth with a surprising amount of semen. She swallowed as fast as she could, and succeeded in taking in every drop, even though she didn't get to taste it very much. Still, what she had managed to sample, she found herself liking. Yes, indeed, blow jobs were definitely something that she wanted to keep giving... ***** Kathy watched as Hanna took the tennis dress into the bathroom and closed the door. She knew what her client would look like when she emerged wearing the dress, but only in an abstract way. She had built the spells into the matrix according to the specifications she had been given, but that wasn't like drawing a picture, or sculpting a model - she wouldn't actually see the results of her work until Hanna presented herself in the tennis dress. And then there were the results she had no way to see. She recalled the additional commission Hanna's current lover had given her, to make certain internal changes, both psychological and physical. She would never have agreed to do something like that if Hanna herself hadn't explained that it was a birthday present of sorts for Bert - while Hanna's alter ego was a gift to herself, she had given Bert permission to make a limited number of minor alterations in order to make said alter ego special to him. It was kind of sweet, as well as kind of twisted. At least, Bert hadn't abused the gift. She didn't often go beyond appearances with her clothes, though it was really no more difficult to alter personalities, or repair internal organs with her magic. The harder part of things like that was doing it so that nothing else was unduly damaged. She didn't have a head for the details of psychology, or internal medicine, so she tended to stay away from those kinds of alterations, except in the most superficial cases. In Hanna case, for example, the changes asked for by Bert consisted of a tendency to go with one's feelings, instead of analyzing and considering before acting, and just a little help with vaginal lubrication. For the first thing, he knew that Hanna's mind and personality would still be within the new, sexier body she had requested and he figured that she might have a little more fun (and not necessarily just with him) if she could get over her shyness. And for the second thing, well Hanna had some difficulty with that technical detail and again, in view of the potential of her new body, Bert had figured some slight assistance would be in order. While each of the pieces of clothing had Bert's modifications built into them, including the swimsuit left at home of course, there was a special pair of panties that had only those two modifications built into them. And since their matrix was different from that of the other clothes, the resetting-slip wouldn't cancel out their effect, which would mean that even the 'normal' Hanna would gain the benefits of Bert's modifications. She had sent those panties to Bert, along with a set of instructions to go with them, and left it up to him whether or not to have Hanna wear them and change herself with them. While it seemed almost logical to put those changes into a pair of panties, there was no real reason that panties had to have been used. The magic didn't really care what was carrying the matrix: a hat would have worked as well. Even so, it was still somehow fitting to use appropriate clothing - like the boxer shorts she had made for a husband of a past client that had done a little groin modification for him. She could have made him a ring, or a vest, or a pair of socks - but it just wouldn't have been the same, somehow. Hanna came out of the bathroom then, and Kathy smiled at the sight of her own work. The new Hanna was tall-ish and still thin, but with a fair amount of lushness at breast and hips even so. Her hair was long and golden brown, and her eyes were large and emerald green, set around a petite nose and topping a generously lipped mouth. There was grace evident in her pose, and her tennis dress accentuated her new, sexier body perfectly. There was a sparkle in those big green eyes as she looked at Kathy, and the witch wondered whether she really saw what she thought she saw there. Well, they still had all of Hanna's new wardrobe to go through - plenty of time to figuratively feel the woman out and see whether it might be necessary to order up room service for breakfast for two. ***** Barry modestly held her swimsuit up over her chest and waved to Dan as he drove his delivery truck away. Then, she closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh of relief, letting the top drop away from her breasts and dangle from her waist. As she had hoped, Dan the delivery man had fairly quickly thanked her, dressed, and left. And now she was safe again. She moved away from the door and absently stripped off the swimsuit. Striding around the living room buck naked, still plenty aroused as a result of the one-sided blow job, she tried to make sense of her situation and the thoughts racing through her head. After all, just a few hours ago she had been a man - or, more of a man than just between her legs. Just a few hours ago she had never seriously thought about touching a man sexually - not *seriously* anyway! And now, after putting on a neon-green swimsuit, she now had a wonderfully sexy, very female, body AND a cock, and thoughts to go with both aspects of her new body. And all kinds of other thoughts. Like, what was she to do about her male-Barry life if she didn't change back? Like, how she was going to explain all of this to her roommate? Like, why had the swimsuit changed her? Each of these questions could spawn dozens of questions of their own, and she didn't even have the beginnings of an answer to any of them. Nor could she think of a way to find those answers. She could feel herself filling up with anxiety - she started to breathe heavily as answerless questions circled again and again through her mind. Her vision started to darken, tunneling narrower and narrower, and she felt her knees getting weak as a whimper tried to work its way out of her mouth. As suddenly as the attack came, it left. Completely gone, nearly forgotten. She decided to shelve the questions until she could ask them with someone else. Kathy would be home tomorrow and she was certainly the one person she had no choice but to show herself to and talk to. Until then ... well, until then she would just have to find something to occupy her time. She wandered around the apartment a few times, trying to find that something. But nothing caught her fancy. None of the computer or video games, none of the books or magazines, none of the puzzles, or craft projects, or anything in the apartment could catch her interest. Of course, she wasn't surprised - it was pretty much this situation that had led her into Kathy's room for the fashion show. If circumstances had been different, she would have gone out to try to find something that didn't require money to waste her time - but she wasn't quite ready to take that step. Not just yet. She found that she had wandered over to the window and raised the blinds, and was staring out at the great outdoors. There wasn't much to see - the occasional pedestrian, the occasional car, lots of green grass. This window faced onto a mostly empty parking lot, with a field on the other side of it, so she couldn't even attempt to see into someone else's apartment. It was then that she realized that she was still naked. She looked down and was relieved to see that the sill of the window came to a couple of inches below her navel, hiding her secret. Her breasts were still on display to anyone who could see her, but she didn't think anyone could. And, she looked around to check, and saw that the angle was wrong for any second story windows to see into this one, so her cock was definitely totally hidden away. The thought of being observed started to excite her. She started to pose in the window, running her hands over her body, up under her breasts, across her nipples, down her hips and to brush across her cock. She imagined herself to be working in one of those 'Live Show' places in a big city, enticing the passers-by to come on in and gawk at the nude ladies. The fantasy increased her excitement, and she closed her eyes as she imagined herself dancing for the crowds passing her window. Caressing her breasts, tweaking her nipples, brushing fingertips across her stomach. Tossing her hair, stroking her neck, biting fingers, and sucking on them like they were something else. Her fingers also caressed her cock, even though she pretended, as part of her fantasy, that her hand was moving across a pussy and that the movements of her hand could indicate that to her watchers. She noticed, in the midst of her fantasy, that her hand was moving very easily over her cock. She could feel the slickness of pre-cum on her hand, but in a quantity that she had never felt before. She wasn't a leaker by any means - or she hadn't been. Now, it seemed like she was more of a pre-cum fountain. But that wasn't terribly important, and soon her fantasy was back in full force. She stroked her body and her cock, and dreamed of being watched by dozens of strangers, and soon the pleasure peaked and her slippery cock tensed, pulsed, and shot cum against the wall under the window. The pleasure washing through her body continued long after her cock had gone soft, and she just stood there, reveling in it. Eventually, she opened her eyes and looked out over the fading fantasy image of the city street that became once again the parking lot. She didn't see anyone gawking at her, so she figured she hadn't really been exposing herself to anyone. She idly wondered whether she could really do something like her fantasy. She'd probably never know. Something about the view began to look wrong. She stared out, trying to recall what seemed odd or different to her. Then she realized - there had been a telephone company van over by a pole on the street that ran behind her townhouse block, and now it wasn't there. She thought about it for a moment, and then dismissed any worries she had begun to have - why should the absence of a van be a problem? And then, she saw a telephone company van pull up and park by the entrance to the parking lot on the street by her house. Was it the same van? What were the odds? Had she been spotted after all? Should she worry? The driver's door of the van opened, and a tall, handsome man got out. He had long dark hair, and attractively tanned skin, and the tank-top he wore showed off his nicely developed torso (making the alternate term muscle-t very apt). His jeans were tighter than she would have expected a workman to wear, but she certainly appreciated the view they gave of his legs and ass. As he picked up his tool belt, reconsidered, and put it back down, Barry dropped the blinds back over the window in a near panic. She peeked between two slats in time to see his eyes track away from her window and a dazzling smile light up his face, as he started to walk in the direction (more of less) of her front door. "Oh my god," she thought. What now? She did the first thing that came to mind - she got dressed. She picked up the swim suit and stepped into the legs. She pulled it up around her waist, forcing herself to ignore the cold wetness in the crotch - seemed like her little exhibition wasn't the first time she had fountained pre-cum. She pushed her cock back between her legs (with a bit of difficulty - why was she starting to get erect?) and gave that little tug that snugged everything up nice and tight. She slipped her arms into the armholes, and settled her breasts into the cups. With only slightly fewer contortions than before, she managed to get the suit zipped up. When the zipper snicked closed, she felt a flash rush through her that jellied her knees, but it passed before she could consider why it had happened this time and not last, and what it might mean. And then all extraneous thoughts vanished from her head when the door bell rang. She headed for the door automatically, and then stopped herself. She wasn't obligated to answer it. She didn't HAVE to confront that gorgeous man and what he might or might not have seen. After all, she was alone here. And she wasn't what she seemed. It was just too dangerous, no matter how drop-dead beautiful the guy was. And then she thought, "What the hell!" Almost without wanting to, she decided to ignore her cautious side, her 'sane' side, and answer the door. Up close, he was even more gorgeous - classically handsome, with a body that had seen just enough of a gym (or a close facsimile), long, perfectly straight dark brown hair, and dark blue eyes. He wore two biker- type silver rings, two earrings in his left ear and three small loops in his right ear. His smile showed lots of teeth, and in contrast to Dan the delivery man, this guy's eyes never left her face. When he spoke, his voice was deep and melodious, making her insides shiver in a way that had nothing to do with ordinary sound waves. He said, "I saw your performance, ma'am, and I was wondering if I might be able to get a more intimate showing?" She should have been terrified. She had been seen, and the guy thought she was some kind of slut or something that he could just proposition right off of the street. And he certainly looked the type to take what he wanted if it wasn't offered nicely. Then again, he certainly hadn't had to ask, if force was his ultimate resource. So maybe it wasn't as desperate a situation as it seemed. Still, she felt she should be cautions. "Um, I'm not exactly sure what you mean, Mr..." "Call me Mark, beautiful. And I'm talking about your little dance in front of that window on the side of the building. I'm also talking about the whole show - I could see what the hand below the sill was doing, and I have to say that the whole you intrigues me intensely." "But how...how could you see...?" "Because I was up on a telephone pole, and so could see more than someone on the street could have. And you looked beautiful - ALL of you." Barry was herself intrigued. Mark didn't seem like he intended to force his attentions on her regardless of what she wanted - he was trying to explain himself fully, and doing a pretty good job of it. And he had seen all of her - there was no secret to protect from him. She opened the door for him and stepped back. "Won't you come on in, Mark? And you can call me B ... Brenda." She changed her name almost automatically, and without a second thought. Mark walked in and stood beside the door as she closed it. She gestured him over to the couch that Dan had recently vacated, and took a seat opposite as before. Mark looked around and complimented the room, and she noticed his grin as he looked at the window she had posed at and the stain below the sill. He looked back at Brenda and said, "You are the most beautiful she-male I've ever seen, and I'd love to see you again, like you were at that window. I know I'm a stranger, but I'd like to be more - a friend, or even better, a lover. I also know I'm intruding into your home, but I couldn't resist your beauty, or your unique charms. Please know that I'll leave at any time you request, but I would definitely like a chance to get to know you better - either now, or later." Brenda's head was definitely being turned by Mark. He was so sincere, and so damnably handsome! She felt immediately that she had nothing to fear from him - that he would leave if she asked, with no questions (except maybe for her phone number first). What did she have to lose (that she minded losing, at least)? Deciding to get bold, she said, "You've already seen me unclothed, and I have to say that I have no objections to letting you see me that way again, and very soon now. But, before that, I would like to see you in the same state. It would make me feel more at ease, among other things." Mark smiled happily as he said, "That sounds completely fair. Do you just want me to strip off, or strip-tease?" "By all means, give me a little show since I've already given you one. Would you like some music?" Mark nodded, and Brenda searched the CD shelf for a suitable selection. She switched on the sound system and loaded the CD, pushed play, and seated herself comfortably after turning the chair to face an open spot of floor. Mark danced to the music pounding out of the speakers, moving as the spirit took him. His shirt was the first to go, and the torso revealed was just as fine as she had imagined. He wasn't bulked out with muscles, but there was just enough definition to make him look like a statue of a Greek god. He then danced with his shirt, whipping it around him, pulling it between his legs, using it to tease. She noticed that while he usually tried to look her right in the eyes as he danced, there were times when his eyes closed and he seemed to be working his body just for the pleasure of working it, not necessarily for her pleasure. She found that even more exciting. He threw his shirt away, and unbuttoned his jeans, taking several minutes to do so. He unzipped them next, and slowly pushed them down, almost having to peel them off of himself, so tight were they. He revealed his full-cut plain blue briefs, but she only got a glimpse of the tremendous bulge of his basket before he turned his back to remove his jeans the rest of the way (including removing his shoes and socks - something he had obviously forgotten to do earlier, but which he worked into the dance perfectly). She was eager to see that basket, but didn't mind the current view of a pair of amazingly tight buns stretching the briefs excitingly. When he was wearing only those briefs, he tossed the rest of his clothes after his shirt and turned back around to present his still covered glory to his audience. He danced in his underwear for a bit, running his hands over his torso, hips and groin, thrusting his hips in time to the music, and pulling up his briefs so that what they covered wasn't terribly hidden any more. Brenda found herself rubbing her bent-back cock as Mark danced - he was making her boil with lust! He must have known the music that was playing - or maybe he was just really lucky - because he stripped off his briefs by ripping them from his body just as the track that was playing ended, posing with the final drumbeat. His cock was magnificent - framed by a dark mat of curly hair (just about the only hair on his body below his scalp), it hung down just below perpendicular, long, mostly hard, cut, and beautifully pink. The hairless balls below it were just the right size, and she thought the whole picture belonged framed on her wall. She applauded, and said, "Magnificent! And you dance well, too." He grinned at her grin, and took a bow. "Fair's fair," she said as she stood up. She unzipped the back of the suit and slipped out of it with practiced ease. She was quickly divested of the green swimsuit, and stood proudly in front of the equally proud, equally naked Mark. The telephone repairman gazed at her from head to toe with admiration and a kind of lust that didn't make her feel dirty to be the object of. She returned the gaze, drinking Mark's image in and memorizing it. He was just so beautiful... Mark moved first. He took the two steps to close the distance between them, and knelt in front of her. He ran his hands up her thighs to her waist, and then back down her ass. And as he cupped her cheeks in large, yet uncallused, hands, he opened his mouth and slurped her cock into it. Brenda gasped in amazement as she felt Mark's lips around her cock. And she gasped again when she felt him take her into his throat and press his nose against her groin. Either he was naturally talented, or not a novice at this kind of thing! He hummed and swished his tongue, and looked up at her from intimate position, smiling with his eyes as she nearly swooned from the pleasure his relatively-static position generated. He pulled slowly back from her, lips tight around her cock, until with a little *pop* she came free of him. He looked at the little pearly runnel of pre-cum that was dripping onto the floor and put his tongue under it. When he had caught a small puddle, he swallowed it, and licked his lips. "Nice glaze!" he said before going back to his work. Brenda was in awe of Mark's skill at pleasuring her cock. She was nearly melting as he blew her, only his strong hands on her ass keeping her from toppling to the floor. She could tell without a doubt that his skills were far superior to hers as exhibited not long before - in fact, he was giving her the best blow job she had ever, ever had, even from Cynthia Morris, the High School Slut! She tried to concentrate on what he was doing and how he was doing it, so she could learn to suck like that, but the pleasure just kept getting in the way. Eventually, she just let it go after making a note to herself to get him to give her lessons. Not very much later, Brenda was shaking and moaning on her perch of Mark's hands as her cock jetted streams of cum into the telephone worker's mouth. Even as she came, his lips were working, milking her in perfect time, coaxing every last drop out of her balls with consumate skill. When the spasming had stopped, Mark released her cock and stood, managing to take her into his arms in the process (since she didn't have nearly enough strength to stand on her own). He carried her over to the couch and sat down, settling her into his lap and kissing her. "My god," Brenda eventually said, "That was fantastic! Please teach me how to suck cock like that, Mark...Please!" "My pleasure, beautiful Brenda. Absolutely my pleasure. And thank you for the compliment. I've had a bit of practice, but never on such a lovely person as yourself." Brenda blushed at the returned compliment, and kissed him. Mark played with her breasts and stroked her as they necked, but eventually the presence of the stiffness in Mark's groin penetrated (no pun intended) her consciousness and she said, "I think its your turn to cum, Mark, and you definitely deserve the choice of how." "I'd be honored if you would permit me to fuck you, Brenda." Brenda's eyes widened at the thought - she had expected to either blow him inexpertly, or give him a hand job. But being fucked in the ass - that was taking some kind of final step away from her former life. Then again, what kind of choice did she have, at least when it came to stepping away from her former life. And she had to admit that the mention of being fucked by Mark did stir feelings inside of her, and make her ass tingle ... "I would be equally honored to be fucked by you, Mark, but I should tell you that I'm an ass-virgin. So, take me gently, please?" "I'll be as gentle as I'm able, Brenda. I have no desire to hurt you, or to make your first time anything less than the best sex you've ever had." Preparations were swift. Mark positioned an ottoman in front of one of the arm chairs, and piled pillows on the seat of the chair. Brenda fetched some lube and condoms from her room, and a satin sheet and satin-covered bed-sized pillow from Kathy's room, and then some refreshments from the kitchen. The satin sheet covered the chair and ottoman, making the makeshift love-bed into something a little more classy. If it had been later in the day, Brenda would have loved to have put candles all around the room, but she settled for closing the blinds and letting Mark select several CDs from the music rack. It was still perfect enough for her. They sat on the couch for a bit, sipping fruit juice and nibbling on cookies. They chatted inconsequentially - they stayed away from heavy topics for the moment, even though they both really wanted to get to know each other much more deeply than they so far did - and occasionally reached over to stroke or caress a portion of their partner's anatomy. Eventually, there was more touching than snacking, and Mark said, "I think we're both ready to begin, eh?" They walked over to the love-bed and got Brenda situated comfortable on it. She was surprised at how comfortable it was, though she was in a position she had never been in before. Mark positioned the bed pillow under her hips to raise them to a better position, and found that everything was at exactly the right height. He leaned forward from between her legs, licked each nipple and then kissed her. "I know I said I didn't want to hurt you, and I don't. But even though I intend to prepare you to the best of my ability, it is fairly likely that there will be some pain. Just remember, love, that the pain will go away. I wouldn't lie to you. Tell me if it hurts too much, and I'll pause for a bit. And if it just hurts way too much, tell me and I'll stop. Okay?" The sincerity in his eyes soothed the fears his words had brought up in Brenda, and she smiled and kissed him back. "I'm ready." He did start slow. One finger, well lubed, between her ass cheeks, probing almost teasingly. He kissed and licked at her thighs, ran his other hand across her stomach and breasts, and slowly worked his finger inside of her. She could feel him wiggling it and wriggling it, slowly stretching the muscles in her ass that would try to keep him out, and thereby cause pain. His stretching of the muscles made them tire, so that they couldn't clench so tightly. But it took a very long time. She thought she was ready after about 10 minutes of that, but when he slid a second finger in with the first, she could feel the stretch and the hint of pain that caused. So, he continued to work and stretch her, taking as much time as he needed to, never rushing, never impatient. She might have gotten impatient, if the whole stretching process wasn't so exciting - she had never imagined that having someone's fingers down there could be stimulating! And what he was doing to her with his hands and lips were certainly taking her mind off of the time it was all taking. She noticed when the third finger slipped in - that slight extra stretch. He worked away, and worked away, and she noticed the fourth finger but just as an added fullness, without any painful stretching. She knew what had to be next since she didn't think he would try to fist her without asking, and she was eager to be fucked, but perfectly willing to let him take his time. She had certainly never been fussed over, or focused on, like this before, and she never wanted it to end. She was barely aware of anything but her pleasure by the time Mark changed position, straightening up between her legs and placing his hands on her hips. She did, however, notice the difference in the feel of the intrusion between her legs - it didn't stretch her more, or hurt her at all, but it did feel different than 4 fingers, more like a single thick, blunt object. She didn't hear Mark's gentle, "Ready? Here I come," but she did feel the object begin to be pressed into her. Slowly it penetrated, stretching her like the fingers had, and then pushing deeper than the fingers had, causing her to stretch and pull, and gasp in pain. Mark stopped immediately, and brushed his hands across her belly soothingly. When her breathing had returned to its former excited state, he gripped her hips again and the pushing started again. She gasped again, and he stopped again - and the pattern repeated again, and again. Sometimes, he pulled back a little before pushing in again, but he didn't want to pull all the way out until he had gone all the way in. The small increments were working - though Brenda felt more stuffed, more full than she ever had before, there wasn't much pain at all. Each new stretching was taking less and less time to get used to, and soon she was looking forward to the stretching as much as the fullness. She was beyond the place where the concept of what was happening to her could have any influence on her pleasure - she would have to wait 'till next time to get all misty-eyed over the idea of being fucked, of being penetrated by a male, of taking someone else inside of her body like that. Right now, all she could feel was pleasure, a different pleasure from any she had ever felt before, but still just pleasure. Mark was almost as full of pleasure as Brenda was, but he had work to do to generate more, so he wasn't completely free to just revel in it. But he remembered what his first time had been like, and he could see much the same kind of experiences in Brenda's face and body. He worked his cock into the beautiful transsexual, his forward pushes coming closer and closer together as she adapted to the size of him. And when his groin touched hers he sighed and leaned down to kiss the panting mouth of his beautiful lover. He pulled back slowly, kissing her breasts and sucking her nipples, and then bending hard to lick at her pre-cum-oozing cockhead before straightening up and starting to rock his hips back and forth, giving Brenda her first fucking. Each thrust made Brenda gasp, and each withdrawal made her sigh. Soon, her body was rocking under her own unconscious direction, enhancing the stroking motion, increasing her pleasure. With amazing precision, she kept up with Mark's motions, even when he rocked his hips from side to side, or slowed down, or speeded up. She was connected to him in more than just a physical way, and that only made the pleasure spiral up even faster. Neither of them wanted it to end - they were fucking in perfect harmony, the best *either* of them had ever had it. But, wishes seldom come true, and even a wish couldn't stop orgasm from completing even the most perfect of sexual unions. They came together, her cock fountaining cum across his chest as well as hers, while his cock pulsed and shook inside of her and really stretched the condom with his semen. The afterglow was almost as intense as the actual orgasm for both of them, leaving each of them locked for some time in their final fucking position. Eventually, Mark's cock softened enough that the muscles in Brenda's ass pushed him out as they struggled to return to their normal shape, and as if that was some kind of release valve, he collapsed on top of Brenda. Arms wrapped around each other instinctively, and they settled into comfortable positions with respect to each other, and fell asleep right there. Even after Brenda woke up, she thought she was still in a dream. Mark was just as handsome in his sleep as awake, and he fitted against her perfectly - he was so comfortable on top of her that she almost didn't even notice his weight. She hoped that she would be able to get to know this wonderful stud, and that Kathy would have some of the answers she would need to build herself a new life that Mark could be part of. She thought about Kathy, and felt a stirring in her groin. So, she still had some of those male feelings, huh? Or, maybe she had been bisexual all along, and had just never been able to deal with the homosexual side of her former male self. Well, whatever. She wondered if Kathy would like Mark, and vice versa. She wondered what a three-way would be like. She wondered all kinds of neat and wonderful things, and eventually wondered herself right back to sleep. End